Tabitha's Diary
by Larry F
Summary: Tabitha Stephens travels to Hogwarts to conduct secret research for a thesis, but finds that her plan didn't account for everything she'd experience.
1. We're Off To See The Wizards

**Tabitha's Diary**

The rights to Harry Potter belong to J. K. Rowling and her publishers, and the movies are copyrighted by Warner Brothers.  
>The rights to the Bewitched! television series are, as best I know, owned by Ashmont Productions and Screen Gems, Inc.<br>No copyright infringements are intended. This is a non-commercial fan fiction story, and no rights to the characters or settings of either series are claimed by the author.

**Chapter 1**

_September 1st, 1994  
>Dear Diary,<em>

_Today is the day. As you know from my previous entries, I earned two doctorates, the first in magical archeology and the second in magical anthropology, and have participated in several digs at sites around the middle east. Up until now, I've been mainly focused on the past. That's about to change. I'm going to write my first magical anthropology thesis on current educational practices of wizarding Britain. For that purpose, I've gotten the president of the Salem Witches' Institute to arrange a bogus "student exchange program" between our junior high branch and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Well, it's not so bogus as all that - if I judge my experience there as being of potential benefit to our children, we may make it a formal program for real. For now, though, it's just an excuse for me to go there so I can do my research._

_If I allow someone who isn't my kind of witch to read this, you may not know how I, a twenty-nine year old, can pose as a student at a school that teaches students from eleven to seventeen years of age. That's because my people age differently than mortals. Simply put, the older we get, the slower we age physically. When I was a toddler, my physical development mirrored that of mortals. By the time I was school age, I began to lag behind the development of my peers, and by the time I was eight, I looked too young for my real age and could not attend mortal schools any longer. That's when my mother transferred me to Salem. Salem has two campuses. One is designed for the needs of mortal wizards and witches, and the other, smaller side is designed for the needs of our folk._

_I'm kind of drifting off subject, aren't I? To finish up, what it all means is that while I'm chronologically twenty-nine, my physical development is equal to that of a fourteen year old mortal. I won't look like I'm fully adult until I'm well over two hundred. That's the secret of our supposed immortality. It takes thousands of years before we even begin to look or feel old, and if a witch or warlock has ever died of old age, I haven't heard of it. Usually if one of us dies, it's because something killed us. My grandmother once told me that we'll never know if we are immortal, because that means we'd have to live forever, and since forever never ends, we won't ever get there to find out if we live that long. Interesting conundrum, eh?_

_I'm going to pop into the ladies' room at King's Cross Railway Station to begin my little adventure. We'll see what happens next._

* * *

><p>Tabitha Stephens hummed softly to herself as she pushed her luggage cart down the main concourse of London's King's Cross Railroad Station, threading her way through the crowded concourse. She was thoroughly enjoying the experience of being in a foreign city, and was amused by the little differences between London and her hometown of Westport, Connecticut. One such was the cart she was pushing along being called a "trolley" by the locals, when back home, a trolley was an electric streetcar. She was also admiring the station itself, with its two long arched skylights supported by metal struts for a ceiling and the many stone arches which lent the old building an airy atmosphere. The heavy rain drumming against the glass of the high ceiling made it even more of an event for her, and added an extra level of sound to the already noisy environment.<p>

_'Let's see, according to the information booklet, I'm looking for platform nine and three quarters, which is a magical gateway in the support column between platforms nine and ten...'_ Reaching up to lightly twitch her nose with a forefinger, she willed herself to see what was hidden. _'Ah, there it is.'_

Just as she was about to step toward the hidden entrance to the platform, a large, dripping wet group passed in front of her which consisted of a boy with wild, dark colored hair and eyeglasses, a girl with what would be bushy brown hair had it not been soaked from the rain, and more soggy redheads than she had ever wanted to see at one time. All were dressed in a collection of clothing styles that ranged from the ordinary to the outrageous, and were being herded along by a matron with equally vivid locks and two young men who had been stamped from the same mold, although one had distinguished himself with long hair and an earring that appeared to be a tooth of some kind. Equally difficult to miss were the angry red streaks of severe scratches on the arms and hands of one of the red haired boys, and the boy and girl with more common hair coloring. The source of abuse wasn't hard to find either, judging by the disgruntled appearances of what looked to be a large, tawny Persian cat and an equally large white owl with black speckled markings on its wings, both of whom looked equally disgusted by their waterlogged condition. The amazing thing was that this group, who should have drawn the attention of everyone in the station, were almost being ignored.

_'Ha. No mistaking the use of magic there. I do believe I'm being graced with my first sight of a British wizarding family.'_

She watched them closely as a few of the younger ones sidled up to the column between the platforms, obviously trying to keep their activity low-key. The matron, however, was more observant and noted Tabitha's attention. She walked over to her with a slightly suspicious air. "Hello, dear. Are you here to catch the train too?" asked the plump woman.

"Um... yes. I was told that this was where I should go find the train to Hogwarts."

The woman relaxed and smiled. "Yes, this is the right place. I've never seen you here before. Is it your first time?"

Tabitha nodded. "I'm a foreign exchange student from the Salem Witches' Institute. I'm part of a pilot program the schools are conducting to see if it would be a good idea to have regular exchanges in the future. My name is Tabitha Stephens."

The woman sniffed. "Well, I doubt that any of my children will ever need to go abroad for their education. Hogwarts is the best school in the world, as I'm sure you'll agree after you've been there for awhile. Still, let me be the first to welcome you to Britain. I'm Molly Weasley."

"Um, thank you, ma'am," said Tabitha, who was taken aback by the blatantly parochial attitude of the woman.

After being given a signal by Molly, the first group of children trundled their carts through the barrier, and another batch prepared to do the same. "Since this is your first time with the barrier to the platform, I recommend taking it at a run. Good luck, young lady," Molly called as she rejoined the rest of her family.

_'Well. I wonder if all British magicals are so thoroughly convinced that their school is the best there is?'_ Tabitha wondered.

After the last of the Red Horde had vanished through the magical barrier, Tabitha calmly wheeled her cart after them. Since she could clearly see the outlines of the spell used to conceal the passage, she felt no need to rush through as the Weasley woman had advised.

_'The Weasleys - I must remember that name. Since they are a large wizarding family, they may make a good control group. Also, that boy with dark hair could have been Harry Potter - he certainly looks like the boy I saw in the wizarding newspapers I read as research. He may be a good observational subject too, since it might be useful to see how a famous person is educated in wizarding society. I'll be able to find out if the other students receive as good an education, or if VIPs get special treatment.'_

At that moment, she emerged into bedlam. There were hundreds of people bustling about despite the deluge of rain. Parents were huddled under umbrella spells or in places where there were roofs over their heads, intent on saying their goodbyes, and children were trying to carry their belongings onto the old-fashioned steam train waiting on the tracks without slipping in puddles. Tabitha couldn't help but compare the chaos to her college in Salem, and marveled at how inefficient it seemed. _'We all arrive by our own means at the beginning of the term, and have time to settle in before classes. These children all have to gather here and ride a train up to the boarding school, and all arrive simultaneously. And London is almost the opposite end of the island from the school. That means that children from the north of England and Scotland have to travel all the way down here just to ride this train all the way back. Whoever thought this up, and why did they think it was a good idea? That's something else to research.'_

Then again, she reminded herself to slap down her tendency to prejudge the wizards and the way they did things. She had to keep her objectivity if she were to do the project right. It was just that the more she learned about wizards and their society, the more backward they appeared. Her own family's tradition was to take the best of whatever society they lived among and use their magic to make it even better. Her aunt Serena was a classic example of that - she lived an almost sybaritic lifestyle by the standards of whatever culture and place she chose to be. The wizards had, it seemed, closed off their society and rejected anything more modern than gas lamps and steam engines. It just all felt so wasteful to her.

_'Enough. I need to get aboard the train before it leaves. It wouldn't do to blow my cover by popping aboard the train while it's moving.'_

With that thought in mind, she muscled the antique looking trunk she'd purchased into her grip and splashed her way on board the train that would take her to her new life of deception, posing as a fourteen year old mortal witch in what was looking to be the land that time forgot.

_'I just had to choose modern wizarding eduction as the subject for my post-doctoral thesis in magical anthropology. What the hell was I thinking?'_

* * *

><p>Staggering down the narrow passageway of the train carriage, Tabitha struggled to keep from bouncing her trunk against the wall as she searched for a compartment that had space for her. <em>'Enclosed compartments, gaslights, bench seats facing each other... I half expect Charley Chaplin or Humphrey Bogart to come walking past. Ah, there. This compartment only has one person in it.'<em> Standing at the door of the compartment, she addressed the girl seated within. "Hello! May I join you?"

The girl, a blonde with long, straight hair, jerked with startlement as she'd been absorbed with reading a wizarding newspaper. Tabitha found her eyebrows raising when she saw that the paper was upside down. The tiny radishes being worn as earrings and the bottle-cap necklace only added to the oddness of the girl's appearance.

"Oh, by all means. I don't usually have much company on the train, so there's plenty of space."

"Thank you. I'm Tabitha."

"Luna Lovegood, third year." Luna studied Tabitha's face for a moment, and then her eyes widened comically. "OH! Oh dear... I never expected to meet a Methuselan on this train!"

"A what?"

"A Methuselan. You are immortal, aren't you?"

Tabitha could feel the blood draining from her face. The idea that her cover would be blown before she'd even reached the school had never occurred to her. _'Oh my god! What to do? Should I erase her memory?'_

The blonde seemed to follow her thoughts. "Oh, don't mind me. I won't tell anyone else if you don't want me to. No one really listens to me anyway. I'm just 'Loony' Lovegood, after all."

Tabitha took a moment to gather her wits and sank into the cushions across from the younger girl. "How... How did you know?"

Luna smiled with the corner of her mouth. "Mother told me that we are distantly related to the Methuselans, many generations back in our line. I just felt like you resonated with that part of me, and I pay attention to my feelings. Your reaction confirmed my guess."

"Well, you certainly gave me a shock. If I weren't immortal, I'd say you knocked ten years off my life!"

Luna looked at her with a puzzled expression.

"Never mind," sighed Tabitha. "It's just a corny family joke. I'm not sure what to do, so I'm babbling. Can I really trust you with my secret?"

"Yes," replied Luna seriously. "I'll swear on my magic if you wish."

"Please. I know that it's a dangerous thing for you to do, but if my family found out that someone here had discovered our secret, it could be even more dangerous for you."

Luna jumped to her feet and pulled her wand out from behind her right ear, where it had been mostly concealed by her hair. "I, Luna Lovegood, hereby swear upon my magic that I will not reveal anything Tabitha... Oh, what's your family name?"

"Stephens."

"...Tabitha Stephens tells me is a secret unless she releases me from my vow." A small flash of light at the tip of her wand marked the vow as sealed. Luna plopped back down on her seat and slid her wand back into place behind her ear.

Feeling relieved, Tabitha asked, "Do you have to use a wand? If you are related to my people, I'd think it wouldn't be necessary. Mine is just a copy of one we had at our school that I made myself and tuned so that it reacts like one of the ones wizards have."

Luna shook her head no. "My family's relationship is too distant, I think. We just live a normal lifespan, and we can't do magic the way I've heard you can. Is it true that you have to strip naked and dance in the moonlight to use magic?"

Tabitha was saved from what was looking to be a rather awkward conversation when a boy leaned into the compartment, one of the Weasleys Tabitha had met at the barrier. "Hey, Loony. Can we join you? Everywhere else is getting pretty much full now."

"Hello, Ronald. I have no objections if my companion doesn't."

Tabitha merely nodded her assent, and then watched as the newly identified Ronald entered, followed by the boy she'd guessed was Harry Potter and the bushy-haired girl, complete with menagerie. After they'd stored their trunks and settled their pets, the girl immediately took charge. Opening her trunk, she sorted through the contents until she found some towels, two of which she passed to her companions. After drying her hair as best she could, she turned to Tabitha. "Hello. I'm Hermione Granger, and these two louts are Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. Nice to meet you."

"Tabitha Stephens of the USA."

Ron, towel still draped over his head, whistled in awe. "Wicked. You're a long way from home. Why are you going to Hogwarts?"

Hermione punched him in the arm. "Ron! It's impolite to start interrogating a person you just met!"

Tabitha tried to settle her down. "It's okay, really. I was expecting to have to answer that a lot. The short version is that my school decided it might be a good idea to start an exchange student program and got permission from your school's board of directors to send me over as a test case. I'll be here for the year, and then I'll go back home for the rest of my education."

"Really? That sounds fascinating. I'd love to have a chance to study in another country like that. It must open up so many possibilities, and there must be so much a person could learn."

Ron snorted. "Trust Hermione to be excited about going thousands of miles for more schoolwork. I'd rather just stay home where I know the food is good."

As Ron was speaking, their car lurched forward as load from the couplings of the adjoining cars was applied, signaling the start of the journey to a new year at Hogwarts.

* * *

><p>As the train chuffed its way north, the passengers were disappointed to find that they could see nothing of the passing scenery. The rain was so heavy that the windows only showed a blurry wash of indistinct colors. Tabitha in particular had been looking forward to the ride, but the storm front was so wide that she was beginning to despair of seeing anything at all but the interior of the compartment.<p>

"So, anyone got a clue about what Mom and my brothers were on about at the station?" Ron asked to break the silence they'd all fallen into.

"No," replied Hermione. "There was nothing in the papers about this year being different. I wonder why they were being so secretive."

For the first time in Tabitha's hearing, Harry finally spoke. "Whatever it could be, it sounded like they were expecting something big to happen."

With her attention drawn to the boy, Tabitha got a clear look into his eyes. His... big... deep... intense... green...

_'Oh my...'_

She'd grown up with stories from her mother about how when she'd met Darrin, it only took her one glance to know that there would be more than one casual date between them. Tabitha hadn't really understood what that meant before. Now she did. She also understood the expressions about "toe-curling" intensity and that they might be literal.

She spent the rest of the journey wondering yet again if maybe she was in for more than she'd bargained when she took on the research project.

* * *

><p><em>September 1st, 1994 (continued)<br>Dear Diary,_

_I'm writing this before I go to sleep in my dormitory at Hogwarts Castle. It seems I've found a friend already. Her name is Luna Lovegood, and she's in her third year of schooling, while I'm in the fourth. That means we won't be in the same classes, but since she knows what I am, I plan to use her as a sounding board when I have questions about her society that I can't answer on my own._

_I had a rather shocking experience on the train to the school. I met a boy who... Okay, I know it sounds trite and clichéd, but he rocked my world in a very unexpected way. I wrote a letter to my mother before I started this entry, telling her about my experiences so far, and about Harry. That's his name - Harry James Potter. He's famous in wizarding Europe as the only person to ever survive the Killing Curse, and I read about him in several publications I was using to get a feel for how to dress and act to fit in. When I first saw him, I wondered if there was a "grunge" look fashion trend in wizarding Europe that I missed in the magazines. He was dressed in clothing that was too big for him, and his shoes looked like they were being held together with tape._

_He didn't act like a celebrity, though. He shared the train compartment I was in, and was very quiet and reserved. Here's the shocking part: I happened to get a direct look into his eyes once, and it was like I'd touched an electrical outlet. Have you ever heard of people having an instant connection to someone else? Love at first sight? I think it was like that for me, although he didn't seem to notice. I just know that there's something there I want to investigate more._

_When we got to the Hogsmeade, the little town near the castle, I didn't know if I should go with the first years or not. There was this absolutely huge man who was calling for them, so I asked him._

* * *

><p>Children were pouring off the train and streaming off toward the road, while the youngest milled about, uncertain of where they should go. Tabitha was in the same state, as her information packet had neglected to mention what she was to do on arrival. She'd assumed that teachers would be present to direct the students, but she saw none. That is, until the largest and shaggiest man she'd ever seen came tromping up to the station platform and called "Firs' Years! Firs' Years over here!"<p>

Since he was the closest thing to an authority figure to be found, Tabitha approached him to ask what she should do.

"Hello! Can you help me?"

The big man turned to her "'Ullo, what's this then? You're not someone I remember bein' here before. Are you the new student from America th' 'eadmaster is expectin'?"

"Yes, I am. Tabitha Stephens. I'm supposed to be in fourth year. Should I go with the first years, since I've never been here before?"

"Naw, this is just a tradition for the younges'. Follow the res' to the carriages, and you'll get to where you need t' be. Perfessor McGonagall will see t' you when you get t' th' castle."

"Okay. Thank you," said Tabitha gratefully. She scurried off in the direction she'd seen the older children heading, and found that they were climbing into a line of coaches that were hitched to animals she recognized as Thestrals. More were already jingling up the road that must have led to the school.

"Tabitha? Where are you?" came a voice from near the road. Tabitha saw Luna standing next to one of the last carriages, where she'd evidently been waiting for her.

"I'm here. Shall we go?"

When the castle came into view, Tabitha was impressed in spite of herself. She commented to Luna, "Wow. We have nothing like that in the United States. It's very imposing." _'And impossible. That's got to be the most eclectic and random jumble of towers and battlements I've ever heard of, much less seen. If it weren't a magical building, I doubt that it could stand under its own weight!' _

Luna nodded in agreement. "It's rare even in this country for a fortress that old to be in such good condition. The first year students have a rite of passage where they are brought over Black Lake in small boats for the most impressive view. It's thought that it gives them the right attitude to begin their lives here."

After arriving at the main doors to the building, Tabitha followed Luna into the corridor leading to the great hall. Emerging into the room, Tabitha was greeted with the kind of hubbub only a collecting of over six hundred children of various ages can produce. The children were seated or finding places on the benches at four extraordinarily long tables that ran nearly the entire length of the hall. They reminded her of the trestle tables found in picnic grounds in the United States, except for the higher quality of wood of which they were constructed. As Luna walked off to one of the tables, Tabitha was approached by an older woman with her hair tied up into a severe looking bun.

"Are you Tabitha Stephens?" asked the woman.

"Yes, ma'am, I am."

"I am Professor McGonagall, the deputy headmistress. When all the children have arrived and settled down, I'll be leading the new students into the room to be sorted into the houses. You are familiar with our house system?"

"Yes, that was covered by the information packet I received."

"Good. After the first years have been sorted, I'll call you up for the same. Until then, find a spot at this end of one of the tables to sit. It won't matter which until you've been placed."

"Yes, ma'am."

With a nod of her head, the professor walked off at a firm pace to one of the side doors to the hall. Tabitha found a place at the end of the table Luna had chosen and prepared to wait for her signal.

It wasn't very long before Professor McGonagall returned from wherever she'd gone. She waved at an old man dressed in very colorful robes, who was seated in an elaborate, throne-like chair centered behind a table on a dais at the opposite end of the hall from Tabitha. While Tabitha had been waiting, he and a number of other adults had arrived, although the others had lesser chairs to either side of the throne. Tabitha presumed that she was seeing the school's headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. He then rose to his feet and tapped his wand against a goblet on the table before him. The "ping" was easily audible throughout the hall, even over the clamor of so many children talking at once.

"Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts, all. With no further ado, let the sorting begin."

The professor ducked back through the door, and moments later emerged followed by the first year students, who were led along the wall toward the head table. After indicating where they were to stop, McGonagall stepped through another door at the head end of the hall. When she returned from there, she was carrying a stool with an old, battered pointed-crown hat settled on it. Tabitha recognized it as the Sorting Hat, which had been briefly covered in her introductory packet.

After McGonagall set down the stool in front of the staff table, what seemed to be a horizontal tear just above the brim of the hat opened, and the hat began to sing a ditty. Tabitha didn't catch very much of it, but it sounded like a history of the founding of the school. After many stanzas, the hat finished his song.

"...Now slip me snug about your ears,  
>I've never yet been wrong,<br>I'll have a look inside your mind  
>And tell where you belong!"<p>

After a brief round of applause from the staff and seated students, Professor McGonagall began calling a roll of the new students, and as she called each name, the youngster sat on the stool and the hat called which of the four houses the student was to join. Since to Tabitha, they were just names whose families she did not know, the whole process was of little interest, although she did take mental notes about the process in general for her report. After the last was sent on their way, it was finally her turn.

The headmaster stood up and announced, "We have wonderful news this year to announce. For the very first time in all the centuries Hogwarts has stood in service to the youth of our nation, we are being joined by a foreign student who is here as an experiment in education. For the entire year, she will be living among you as a regular student, and will be sorted into one of the houses like everyone else has been. If this experiment is successful, she will be but the first of a foreign exchange program. Other students from her school, the Salem Witches' Institute, will be joining us for a year, and Hogwarts students will have the opportunity to study overseas at the Institute in their turn. Let's give a warm Hogwarts welcome to Miss Tabitha Stephens!"

Taking that as her cue, Tabitha walked down the center isle of the hall to take her place on the sorting stool. As the hat settled on her head, she heard its raspy voice as clearly as if it were speaking aloud. _"So, what have we here? It's not often that I'm called upon to sort an older student. But wait, you're even older than I was led to expect. Instead of fourteen, you're... twenty-nine? And already have advanced educational degrees? Ah, I see. You're here to study our society for a treatise you intend to write. Well, I'll keep your secret. My enchantments require me to hold these consultations in confidence. Now, to business. Where to sort you? You are quite ambitious, but it's aimed toward increasing your knowledge rather than your status. You are brave enough, but that's because you are powerful enough not to be frightened by much. You are decent and hardworking, but your loyalty is only for your own kind. Very well. It has to be-"_

"-RAVENCLAW!"

* * *

><p><em>(Dairy entry continued)<em>

_After the sorting, we had dinner and I got acquainted with some of my housemates. I was welcomed by several members of the house, but the most enthusiastic welcome came from Luna. She seemed delighted that I'd be in the same house as she._

_After dinner, the headmaster had several announcements to make. The one that had the most telling effect on everybody was that Quidditch, which seems to be the only sports program in the school, was canceled for the year because they are hosting the Triwizard Tournament. I'll have to look that up when I get the chance, as it's a complete surprise to me. The headmaster went on to say that two other European wizarding schools are sending contingents here to participate and to stay the year. I'm not sure whether to be disappointed or not. On the one hand, it means that I'm not going to experience a typical school year here, so my thesis will be skewed by not having data from a normal year. On the other, I'll have students from more wizarding schools to observe and interview discreetly. I don't know if that will help or hinder my efforts._

_After all was said and done, Luna led me off to the west side of the castle, to Ravenclaw Tower. In my introductory packet, it had said that the house dormitories had passwords, but contrary to that, Ravenclaw access is granted by answering a riddle. That seems a little silly when you get right down to it. What if the other houses have members who are intelligent enough to guess the answer? Could they just walk in?_

_The doorway opens into a common room, which takes up an entire floor of the tower. Since the tower is round, so is the room. The main features of the common room are comfortable, overstuffed armchairs arranged in groups, a nice fireplace, and a life-sized sculpture of Hogwarts founder Rowena Ravenclaw standing near the wall. The walls are covered by blue tapestries, probably to cut down on echoes and help make the place feel warmer, since they probably help insulate the room from the cold stones of the tower walls. The common room ceiling is a dome painted with stars like a planetarium. I wonder if the patterns change to reflect the season?_

_Luna took me upstairs to find my room, where I found my belongings had been unpacked and arranged for me. The rooms are in smaller secondary towers attached on the outside the main one, and are circular like the common room. In the middle is a heater that looks like it must be oil fired, with a metal chimney pipe stretching up to through the ceiling. Beds are arranged with their heads against the wall in a starburst pattern, leaving a walkway around the heater. The beds are canopied with heavy curtains that can be drawn for privacy, and each has a wardrobe and dressing table next to it. All in all, it's not the most uncomfortable arrangement I've ever had to endure._

_Luna and I sat on my bed, and I drew the curtains. After I cast a spell to ensure that our conversation would not be overheard, I asked Luna a question that had been on my mind ever since we met._

* * *

><p>"Luna, that word you called me when I met you..."<p>

"Methuselan?"

"Yes, that one. Why did you call me that?"

"Isn't that the name of your people?"

"No, I've never heard it before. Where did you?"

"It was in one of the articles my father wrote in the Quibbler a few years ago. Wait a moment." Luna sprang from the bed and ran from the room to the stairs. After a short while, she returned in triumph, carrying a scrapbook. She rejoined Tabitha in her bed and drew the curtains. "I clip my favorite articles and keep them in this book. I am especially fond of the one about Methuselans because I wanted to know more about my ancestry.

"See? It tells quite a lot about your people. Stuff like performing your magic "sky clad" - that means naked, you know - and the rituals that you have to perform on the solstices and equinoxes, and all the rules you have to follow. He even wrote all about things like the magic circles and candles and everything. I always thought it would be very liberating to perform magic naked and not need a wand for everything."

Tabitha wasn't sure how to break the news, but knew she had to disabuse the poor girl. "Luna, I'm sorry to be the one to disappoint you, but that article doesn't get anything right. We don't do any of that. Magic for us is very natural. For simple things, we just will it to happen and make a 'release' gesture, and it does. If we need a more powerful effect, we chant a verbal command in a poetic style, with more elaborate gestures. We do have some rituals and potions, but those are reserved for only the most complex magic. We don't even have a name for our race - we just call ourselves witches and warlocks, and our 'government', if you want to call it that, is an informal witches' council that we convene at need."

"Are you sure? My daddy's never wrong about things he writes in the Quibbler."

Tabitha could see that although Luna's words were calm enough, there were signs that she was upset about her father being contradicted. "Luna, I'm certain about my own people, but I don't think your father is wrong either. It sounds like your father found all the stories about wiccans that are floating around and accidentally ascribed them to us. What he wrote is true about wiccan practices. Maybe one of his sources mislead him."

Luna wasn't any more eager than Tabitha to get into a fight, especially with a person she desperately hoped would be joining her very small circle of friends. She accepted the compromise gratefully. "That could very well be. When Daddy was first investigating the Rotfang Conspiracy, he was hampered by any number of people lying about it. I'll let him know that these wiccan people are trying to throw him off the trail, so that he can look into it properly."

Tabitha smiled at her willfully naive companion, and decided that she was tired enough for sleep. "I'm ready to go to bed now, Luna. Good night, and I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night, Tabitha!" called the younger girl as she bounced off toward the stairs to her own floor.

* * *

><p>Afterword:<p>

Thanks to tumshie & pazed for pointing out a rather embarrassing mistake I made by naming Cedric Diggory as Ravenclaw Prefect, when had I taken the time to think about it, I would have remembered that he's in Hufflepuff. Since I can't find a definitive list of Hogwarts prefects, I've just removed the reference entirely.

Many thanks go out to all the people who have posted comments. When I published this chapter here, it was late at night and I thought it'd go pretty much unnoticed. You can only imagine my utter surprise when I woke up the following morning and my inbox was filled with notices about favorites, story alerts, and comments. When I published, I was wondering if I'd get as many as three or four comments from a link notice I'd posted in the CaerAzkaban Yahoo Group.

Preemptively, it occurs to me that people who are familiar with Bewitched may wonder if Adam Stephens, Tabitha's younger brother, will appear in this story. The answer is no, although I may mention him at some point. That's because they will have grown apart over the years. It's canon that Adam did not inherit magic or immortality from his mother. His genetics took almost entirely after Darrin for some reason. There are two ways he could have gone: either he'd become bitter and revengeful because of his lack, or he could have forged his own path and kept contact with his family to a minimum so that he could build a fulfilling life as a mortal. I choose to have him follow the latter path, although the former could make for one heck of a tale.

Here are some specific replies:

dennisud: I've been pretty foreshadowing that Tabitha is falling in love with Harry, and not being subtle about it at all. However, there's no guarantee that he'll return it. While I had that intention when I first started writing scene snippets, the story is evolving differently than that. I think any fan author can tell you that sometimes the characters take over and the poor author finds things flowing from his or her fingers that wasn't part of the plan. For now, it's looking like Tabitha is going to stay on the outside of the events in the canon story looking in, and that's actually not a bad thing. There are any number of fan fiction stories that retell the events of GoF from Harry's point of view. There aren't so many that tell how a third party might have seen them. She might take a direct hand in influencing the story from time to time, but right now when and how will be a revelation as much to me as anyone.

Clell65619: Inasmuch as this was directly inspired by your HP/Bewitched crossover, I can and will say the same back. If you keep writing your version, I'll try to stay on this one.

pazed: I don't have a prereader for this, and when I was posting on CaerAzkaban, I only got a few comments to help me along. When I posted the link to this chapter there, I mentioned that it's rough. I know full well that it needs polishing, but the only way I have to do that now is to move on, let it sit for awhile, and then come back later to look at it with fresh eyes. For now, I'm too close to the initial writing to spot the mistakes I know are there.

sparky40sw : I appreciate your concerns. As for the age difference, it does require you to know a little about Bewitched. First off, Tabitha is the daughter of a man who was in his late twenties or early thirties and a woman who was probably over three hundred years old, according to semi-canon sources. Her mother married a mortal man who was at the same stage of his life that she was in hers, so to Tabitha, the fifteen year age difference would barely register on the radar. She and Harry are both at the same stage of physical development, and at twenty-nine, she's still pretty much considered a baby by her society. In the first scene I wrote for this idea, which actually takes place later in the story, Tabitha talks with her mother Samantha, and finds out that she's against the idea of her taking up with Harry not because of the age difference, but because Harry will die of old age before Tabitha will even be considered fully adult by their people. That's one of the things I was hinting at in Tabitha's first diary entry.

NuitTombee: Yes, you are right about the potential pitfalls of a relationship between Tabitha and Harry, but it's only for those who know the truth. At the moment, that's only Luna and Samantha, and Luna only knows that Tabitha is immortal, not her real age or that she's interested in Harry. If (when?) Harry ever does learn that she's interested and her real age, it might become an issue then. For now, I honestly don't know if she'll ever tell him. In the scene I wrote before I started the first chapter, Samantha cautions Tabitha about being in a relationship with a mortal, and I hinted that Tabitha would try to find out if there was a way to bridge the gap between mortal wizards and immortal warlocks so that Harry could become one. At the moment, I'm leaning toward her not making a move on him unless she can solve that issue.

Rorschach's Blot: Thanks! Right now, I'm not sure how much Tabitha will intervene. She wants to be low-key and not stand out, but I tentatively plan to have her step in here and there. Whether or not she'll be able to extend Harry's life? Who knows? At this point, I'm as much in the dark about that as anyone. This story is already deviating from my original plot ideas. As for Darrin Stephen, his fate is not a secret. In the first scene I wrote for this, which takes place in the future, I mentioned that he died of a stroke shortly after the canon series' end. That's why Samantha has been converted to Endora's view that witches should not marry mortals. Her marriage only lasted eight years, and her son is a squib who will die after what will seem to her to be a heart-breakingly short time.


	2. The First Day

**Tabitha's Diary**

The rights to Harry Potter belong to J. K. Rowling and her publishers, and the movies are copyrighted by Warner Brothers.  
>The rights to the Bewitched! television series are, as best I know, owned by Ashmont Productions and Screen Gems, Inc.<br>No copyright infringements are intended. This is a non-commercial fan fiction story, and no rights to the characters or settings of either series are claimed by the author.

**Chapter 2**

Foreword: I want to try to keep this as true to canon for both series as I can manage, but this chapter will drift afield. I'm attempting to reconcile two completely different ways of doing magic. In Bewitched, magic... Well, "it just works" sums it up. In the Harry Potter books, magic use is more structured. Since there's really nothing to go by officially, some speculation on my part into how they function is necessary. One of the first ways I'm going astray is the use of runes and arithmancy in Harry Potter style magic.

I just hope this chapter isn't too boring.

Edit: Since Tabitha casts a complex curse in this chapter, it's been edited to have her use a Bewitched style incantation.

* * *

><p><em>September 2nd, 1994.<br>Dear Diary,_

_It's the first day of school, and it didn't take long at all before I began to learn that all's not well in paradise. Touted to be the best magical school in Europe, Hogwarts has some rather dark secrets that seem to contradict the claim._

_My roommates began to cue me into castle gossip even before we walked down to breakfast. The other four beds belong to Mandy Brocklehurst, Sibelle Fawcett, Padma Patil, and Lisa Turpin, who'd introduced themselves to me after we woke up and started getting ready for the day. When we arrived in the Great Hall, Luna was already seated in her usual place at the Ravenclaw table, and I joined her. After mutual "good mornings", I gathered a plate of food and settled in to listen to the talk around the table. I wouldn't be seeing Luna again until lunch because she had Double Arithmancy and Divination, which were in different parts of the castle than mine._

_I forgot to mention in my last entry that a new teacher was introduced to the student body last night, the instructor for the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. He's an ex-auror named Alastor Moody. Aurors are the law enforcement officers of the Ministry of Magic, which is the wizarding British government. My housemates are hoping that he will be at least as good as the last instructor. His name was something-Lupin, and he lasted less than a year in the position. The kids all agreed that no teacher has held the post for more than a year in recent memory. Three years ago, a teacher was killed near the end of his first year. Two years ago, the teacher was a fraud who lost his mind. Last year, they had a good teacher, but he turned out to be a werewolf and was fired._

_As you may well guess, this isn't exactly what I thought I was setting myself up for. I was looking forward to a normal year in a secondary school, and this is panning out to be something else entirely. After asking questions about the staff and program, I learned that the History of Magic teacher is a ghost, the DADA post apparently is cursed, the potions teacher is roundly hated, and according to the announcement of the previous evening, the entire academic program is being subverted in favor of a surprise contest. One that, according to breakfast table rumor, hasn't been held in centuries due to an excessive casualty rate. All that was discovered before I even finished eating. I'm really wondering if my thesis has been ruined before I begin to write it._

_I just had a thought, so it's time to backtrack. Future readers of my likely-to-be obscure monograph might want to know why I'm writing it in the first place. Briefly, it's because I was wandering around the wizarding side of the Salem Institute one day during the lunch break, and it occurred to me that even though I shared the name of my school with them, I didn't know a darned thing about them. Our society is secretive with a capital "S". The wizards are more than a little arrogant because they have lived alongside the "muggles" - their name for non-magical mortals - and have remained undiscovered for centuries. Of course, that's due to a liberal application of memory modification spells when someone _does_ stumble across something they'd rather wasn't known. What they don't know is that we've lived alongside both them and mortals for thousands of years and have remained undiscovered by _both_._

_The problem I saw was that staying separate leads to ignorance. Wizards don't know much about muggles, and we don't know much about wizards. In fact, because we _like_ mortal culture, we know infinitely more about mortals than we do about wizards. Thus, the thesis. (Wow, I just realized that last sentence is an accidental alliteration! Hey, I'm a poet and didn't know it.)_

_And that, dear reader, is why I ended up sitting here in a wizarding school wondering if I'm wasting my time, or if maybe I've stumbled onto an academic gold mine because I have the chance to see them work under stress. I guess I'll have to wing it and find out._

* * *

><p>The first day of classes, and it was make or break time. If Tabitha couldn't convince the students and teachers that she was one of them, the whole charade would come crashing down around her ears. After eating breakfast, she went back to Ravenclaw Tower to gather her books and supplies for her first class, Care of Magical Creatures with Rubeus Hagrid. It was a class that she thought she'd do well in, since she'd gotten good marks in Magical Zoology at Salem.<p>

The class was held outdoors, near the picturesque caretaker's cottage. Tabitha found the scenery breathtaking. The valley the school was sited in was surrounded by craggy mountains, and the cottage stood with the Forbidden Forest as a deep green backdrop. Professor Hagrid was standing near some rough pens, and waved the students over. "Mornin', everybody! This year, I've got a real treat for you, and you're the firs' class to see 'em!"

* * *

><p><em>(Diary continued)<em>

_That was my introduction to the wonders of the blast-ended screwt. Are you scratching your head in confusion? If so, then no wonder. I'd never seen or heard of one either, and I took Magical Zoology for five years back in Salem. The reason why I'd never heard of a blast-ended screwt before was because until 1994, they hadn't existed._

_It turns out that Rubeus Hagrid is a highly talented yet formally untrained cryptozoologist, with a bent toward hands-on experience and more than one loose screw in that oversized shaggy head of his. He loves unusual creatures, and the more dangerous, the better. In a move that shows his sheer genius and cheerful, kind, and utter madness, he found a way to cross-breed a manticore with a fire crab. Result? The screwts. Why such an unheard-of hybrid? Only Professor Hagrid knows for sure. Maybe he naturally thinks of unusual hybrids because he's one himself. I found out that he's a half-giant, human father and giantess mother. You have no idea how relieved I was when I learned that his father was human, because the thought of the mechanics involved if his father had been a giant makes my skin crawl._

_Anyway, the screwts. They are about the ugliest little things you've ever seen, a trait which Hagrid finds endearing. The males have stingers like a scorpion, obviously from their manticore ancestry. The females suck blood like it's their mother's milk. They have pale, clammy skin, and smell like rotting fish. They are called "blast-ended" because they shoot little sparks of fire explosively out of their southern exposures, strongly enough to propel them along for a few inches. Worse yet, there are hundreds of the little monstrosities, so the professor must have used a female fire crab for the eggs. Before you ask, yes, the screwts are a violation of the International Ban on Experimental Breeding. Even so, the professor is displaying the creatures openly and no one seems to mind. I suppose he has a special dispensation._

_I learned later that their name was possibly derived from low-brow humor. "Blast off", it seems, is a slang term in Britain for breaking wind._

_ Hagrid wanted all of us to become well acquainted with them, and had us handling the little beasties. The best that can be said about them is that they are anything but cuddly. They feel about as bad as they look. One of the Hufflepuff girls fainted the moment he shoved her toward the pen. I wonder how the Gryffindors and Slytherins will feel, because while we just had to touch them, they're going to have to try to feed them various things, since the professor still has no idea what their diet might be. __This is one of those times when I have to say "better them than me"._

* * *

><p>After Care of Magical Creatures ended, the students hiked back up the stepped path back to the castle, off to the next period. Tabitha had chosen Double Ancient Runes, another class she'd taken as a help for her disguise. She had years of experience on archaeological digs in Mesopotamia and northern Africa under her belt, and held a doctorate in the subject, so she was expecting to breeze through a middle-school level course.<p>

She glanced up at the castle, getting her first real view of it during full daylight. The first thing that struck her about it was the overall atmosphere. The best way she could describe it was "Neuschwanstein on LSD". Several of the round towers had several smaller towers stuck to their sides about two thirds of the way up. Remembering the floor plan of the Ravenclaw dorms, one of them had to be her new home. Another tower with a much larger diameter was half the height of the main structure, but its crest was a little taller because of its ridiculously stretched conical roof. The main clue as to the purpose of the design were the numerous small open windows that pierced it - the elongated roof was probably the owlery. After taking in the building, she noticed that the stone it was built of was colored differently than the surrounding mountains or the bluff it was built on. The castle was colored in tans and beiges and other tawny colors, while the rock of the valley was colored in grays. _'They must have imported the stone of the castle from somewhere else. Why would they do that?'_

As they trudged upward, they passed the fourth year Gryffindor and Slytherin students on their way down for their class. Tabitha spotted Harry, Hermione and Ronald in the group and waved to them. Harry seemed surprised and almost didn't react, while Hermione flashed her a big smile. Ronald barely noticed her at all. Tabitha noticed that Harry's school clothing fit him much better than his street clothes had, although he was wearing the same battered sneakers as before. His build wasn't anything to write home about, and he looked a little weedy, but again she felt a distinct twinge in her heart at the sight of the young man.

As she continued up the path, she tried to bring the feeling up to the front of her mind for examination. It wasn't anything she'd ever felt before, and she'd certainly been around enough young men in her time. Sadly, her dating experience was near zero. She just wasn't interested in the warlocks her age she'd encountered, as they were almost universally immature and self-centered. While they were more interesting, mortals in her age group thought she was jail bait, and mortals her apparent age were about as bad as the warlocks. For those reasons, opportunities for dating were unfortunately rare. _'Okay. My heart starts beating faster when I see him, and I'm getting impulses to do something to catch his attention. It's pretty obvious that I'm infatuated, but why? What is it about him that's affecting me that way? It can't be his fame; I've only read about him in a few teen witch magazines and that kind of gossip isn't my thing. I've never gotten star-struck before, anyway.'_

Unable to come to any conclusions, she decided to table the thought until she had more to work with.

* * *

><p>Like much of the castle that Tabitha had seen, the architecture of the Ancient Runes classroom was beautiful. Located on the fifth floor, it featured elaborate structures of wooden arched beams supporting the ceiling. A projection screen on a tripod stand was set at the front of the room, not far from a short flight of steps leading to a door that must be the instructor's office. On an elaborate stand of its own was a slide projector - the early type known as a magic lantern. <em>'Oh, for heaven's sake. It's almost too corny to be believed. The only thing magical about that thing is the name, but I suppose that was enough to get it on the list of school supplies here.'<em>

Less impressive were the student accommodations. The student seating was comprised of two files of wooden tables with attached backless benches, each wide enough for two students to sit. _'Do I detect a pattern here?'_ Tabitha thought with asperity. _'The dining tables in the great hall have hard wooden benches. This classroom has hard wooden benches. The only places I've seen seating with back support so far is either just for the instructors, or in our common room. Even the stools at our dressing tables are hard wood with no back support. Student comfort does not seem to be much of a priority, does it?'_

After meeting Rubeus Hagrid, Professor Bathsheda Babbling was a refreshing breeze in comparison. She was a no-nonsense teacher, but not as stiff as some Tabitha had studied under in the past. Professor Babbling loved her subject, and was determined to make the class fun enough to pass that love to her class. It helped that Tabitha's previous specialties had been hieroglyphs and cuneiform rather than norse runes, although she had a good grounding in them. That meant that it looked like the course would be different enough from her previous training to not be boring.

"Good morning, class," called Professor Babbling cheerfully. "Today we are beginning the introduction to Freya's aett of the Elder Futhark. Muggles use the Elder Futhark when playing at divination, so the muggleborn among you may have heard of the rune set before. Here, you will learn the real uses of the runes. To begin, copy down the contents of the black board while I read the names and meanings of each symbol. Please keep in mind that like all magic, runes can be used for both good or evil. It is the spellcrafter who decides what they may do.

"In classical times, Fehu was used in spellcrafting to influence possessions, wealth, and luck. It can be used in spells to represent abundance or fortune, and is often used to signify hope and plenty, or success and happiness. Reversed, Fehu is used in curses meant to cause loss of personal property, esteem, or something that one puts in effort to keep. It usually is intended to cause some sort of failure. Uruz is used to increase physical strength and speed, and can aid with energy and health. For this reason, it's often used when crafting healing spells. It is also used to stimulate sexual desire and masculine potency. Reversed, it influences weakness, obsession, and misdirected force, and can be used to cause a person to be dominated by another. In the past, it was sometimes used to in curses intended to cause sickness. Thurisaz is often used in dueling spells. It influences reactive force, and directed force for destruction and defense. Reversed, it can be used in spells to induce defenselessness and compulsions. Ansuz is used mainly in divination or communication spells, as it influences speech and true vision. Reversed, it can be used in spells that cause misunderstanding and delusions. Raido influences travel, both in physical terms and those of lifestyle direction. Reversed, it influences rigidity, stasis, and irrationality. Kenaz deals with vision, revelation, knowledge, creativity, inspiration, and technical ability. Reversed, it is used for disease, breakup, instability, and lack of creativity. Gebo represents gifts, both in the senses of sacrifice and of generosity, and can also represent balance. Reversed, it can influence greed, loneliness, dependence, and negative self sacrifice. Lastly, Wunjo influences joy, comfort, pleasure, fellowship, harmony, and prosperity. Reversed, it influences stultification, sorrow, strife, and alienation.

"This quarter, we will be covering how this rune set is used in modern spellcrafting to influence the intended results of spells, and at the end of the quarter, you will be crafting a simple spell to demonstrate your understanding of the material. Tomorrow, you will be expected to turn in eight inches explaining how these runes are used in basic medical diagnostic spells. A schematic breakdown of the three most common diagnostic spells may be found in chapter twelve of Pereculus Howard's 'Ancient Runes for the Modern Mage'. Mister Davis, please begin reading aloud from 'Advanced Rune Translation', page two-forty-one..."

* * *

><p><em>(Diary continued)<em>

_That was my introduction to Ancient Runes. I was expecting it to just be the study of old manuscripts and inscriptions, but that wasn't quite accurate. As you can see, at this stage the class not only covers ancient runes, but also how to use them in practical modern applications... if you're a wand waver. For me, it's an interesting intellectual exercise and may come in handy if I ever get involved in a dig in one of the old Nordic magical sites. Spellcrafting for its own sake is less useful, since we don't do that sort of thing. Our magic is less hidebound and more instinctive. I learned later that wand wizards' children experience what they call "accidental magic". They dismiss it and train them out of it, never realizing that their children are nibbling at the edge of true magic as we practice it when they experience those "accidents"._

_It raises a question, of course. Is our magic better? I think so, although I'm obviously biased about that. Yet no one can deny that we can do things they cannot, and when we do, it has a permanence that they can only achieve with great difficulty. On their side, they have many more magical disciplines than we do. Potions, for example. We rarely use them, and those are mostly medicines made by our witch doctors. They have a catalog of potions, and can do things with them that we never would dream of - mostly because we don't need potions to accomplish the same things. It's essentially like the difference between wand wizards and non-magicals. Mortals can do most of the things wizards can, and many of them are done better, without any magic at all. Wizards can do most of the things we do without true magic, because they invented other ways to get them done. We can do most of the things either can with true magic, so we don't need most of the baggage they have to deal with. Does that make us better? Maybe, maybe not. In the end, it probably just makes us different._

_The next class is going to be a critical test for me. It's Charms with Professor Filius Flitwick, and that class will be the first time I'll have to publicly use my "wand". The heavily doctored stick I have up my sleeve isn't a wand as the wizards know it. I invented it myself, since I'm the first immortal witch I know of to take an interest in posing as a wand waver._

_I have my theories, of course. One of the big differences between us and them is... I guess the best analogy would be to use broadcast radio terminology as an example. Wand wizards operate on "frequencies" that are in a much lower "band" than we use, a natural consequence of channeling their power through sticks. The resistance of the materials they use to make wands affects their wave frequencies, and that in turn affects what the wands are best at, be it charms, transfiguration, or what have you. As they grow used to using wands, their magic gets tuned to the point where they can no longer use what they call accidental magic._

_Something I found out while conducting research on wand wizards before I came to Hogwarts is that they believe that their wands choose the wizard they will serve. That, my friend, is nonsense. I've never heard of one single incident in which a wand hopped out of a box or drawer and floated over to the wizard or witch it had "chosen". Wizards don't really know anything about waveforms and such, so the concept of frequencies is beyond them. I firmly believe that the natural frequency of the wizard's magic simply harmonizes best with certain wand and core materials, and they just muddle their way through combinations of the two until they find one that resonates properly. If they understood the concept of radio wave frequencies and applied it to magic, they could cut down the effort of finding what works with each person to practically nothing._

_"Oh!" I hear you shout. "But what about the Wizarding Wireless Network? They must understand radio because they have it!" Sorry to disappoint you, but WWN sets do not operate on the same principles as real radios. Back in the early days of radio, when every mortal home had one like they have TV sets now, a wizard named Horatius Blakeford wandered into a pub in London that had a radio playing dance music. He was captivated by the concept of having music that could play any time, anywhere without the need for musicians, but he didn't know electricity or radio waves from deviled ham. So he invented a way to transmit broadcasts of programs through magic. A WWN receiver set is charmed to connect magically to various broadcast centers, and does not need a power supply. They just work. To tune it, you tap on it with your wand and it switches between channels predetermined by their charms. A popular mortal band called Steely Dan wrote a song called "FM (No Static At All)", but FM has nothing on the WWN. You can get a crystal clear WWN signal at the bottom of the Pacific ocean if you can get there in the first place. Now, if only there were anything on the WWN that was worth listening to...!_

_Back to my ranting about comparative magic. It turned out that our magic is naturally on a higher wave band than theirs to begin with, and as we grow into our power, the difference becomes wider. By the time we reach school age, our magic cannot be detected by a wand wizard any more than a mortal human can hear ultra high frequency radio waves with his naked ears. That was something I had to overcome._

_The__ "wand" that I created is a specialized tool with two tasks to accomplish. First, it's made to be indistinguishable from a real wizard's wand and has to stand up to inspection by their experts. Second, when I push my power through it, it has to lower my magical frequency to the band used by wand wizards. If I did the job right, they shouldn't be able to tell that I'm only aping the wand movements and words of the spells they use, and really just willing my magic to do the work required._

_Although he doesn't know it, Professor Flitwick is going to be the first judge of my work, and whether or not he notices anything strange will be the passing or failing grade on my wand._

* * *

><p>The Charms classroom was a good reflection of its master - cluttered with books, seemingly disorganized, yet cheerful and bright. Filius Flitwick was remarkably short and sported a very full beard and long white hair. To make himself easily visible to all of the students of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor who were present, he stood atop a stack of huge tomes whose wear patterns showed that this was habitual.<p>

Tabitha was pleased that she would be sharing this class with the three Gryffindors she'd met on the train, Harry, Hermione, and Ron. "Hello. I haven't had much of a chance to speak with you since the train. How have your classes been so far?" she asked.

The boys grunted out brief greetings as they chose a desk to sit at. Tabitha was joined at hers by Hermione. "Hullo, Tabitha," replied Hermione. "It's been a pretty good day so far, although I was disturbed by Hagrid's creatures. How he could think that such disgusting things would make good subjects for Care of Magical Creatures is beyond me."

"He told us that your class would have to figure out what their diet might be. Did you have any luck?"

"None, and I'm of two minds about whether that's for the best. They didn't seem interested in anything we tried to feed them. If it weren't for the fact that they have mouths, I'd wonder if they ate anything at all."

At that point, the professor began the class. "Hello, everyone, and welcome back to another year of learning one of the most useful branches of magic: charms! This time, we will be concentrating on the summoning and banishing charms.

"The summoning charm is used to cause an object which is at a distance from you to fly to you, whereupon you will hopefully catch it. You must know the general area where the object is, and have some idea of what it is to be successful. The farther the object is from you, the more difficult it will be to summon it, although a master of this spell who has a clear mental image of the item can summon over long distances with relative ease. There are also counters to the summoning charm to make items difficult or impossible to summon. More details about the spell can be found in this year's textbook, _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4_ by Miranda Goshawk. Next class, I'll want six inches of parchment on possible uses for the summoning charm in daily life.

"The incantation of the spell is 'accio' plus the item's name, and the wand movement is to aim your wand in the item's direction as you use the incantation. Located on the table across from the room from you all are various soft objects. On your desks before you are slips of paper with the name of the item you will practice on. Read the name of your object and attempt to summon it on my mark... Ready? Begin!"

The class dissolved into near chaos, with students jabbing their wands at the table and shouting their incantations. That did not mean that very many items came flying through the air. Most students were lucky to get the items to even rock in place.

Tabitha pretended to practice the spell for a few rounds before she channeled her magic, using the motion of lifting the wand and aiming it as the somatic component of her casting. She could feel the difference as her magic entered the wand, the normally instantaneous action slowing down to something an agile person could dodge at the distance the table sat. '_It's a mystery that wand wizards ever decided to cast magic this way. It's like taking a beam of light and somehow making it only go as fast as a baseball. Magic should be nearly instantaneous!_'

To her satisfaction, she saw that her magic was behaving almost exactly the way the other students. She deliberately caused her item, a soft rubber ball, to roll over the edge of the table and fall to the floor, where it bounced a few times before rolling to a stop. For her next "attempt", she decided to let herself "succeed", and brought the ball flying straight into a left-handed catch.

"Oh, well done, Miss Stephens, well done indeed!" cheered the professor, clapping his hands enthusiastically.

Tabitha allowed herself a broad smile, as Hermione joined the professor in congratulating her, and thanked them for the sentiment. '_I truly do appreciate it, too. Not for the magic - I could do that in my sleep. But they didn't notice a thing wrong with my "spell", and that means my hard work paid off!_'

* * *

><p>After Charms class had ended, Tabitha waited outside the class for Luna, who had promised to walk with her to the Great Hall for lunch. It wasn't long before the girl came into view with hurried steps. "Hello, Tabitha! How were your classes?" She matched her pace to Tabitha's as they started off down the crowded hallway, heels clicking on the polished stone of the paving.<p>

"Just fine, Luna, although Professors Hagrid and Binns were a little tough to deal with."

"Oh? I think Professor Hagrid is a good teacher. He never laughs at me when I tell him about the latest discoveries father has written about in the Quibbler."

"Others do?"

"Yes, unfortunately. When I try to tell the other girls in my year about snorkacks and nargles, they make fun of me and tell me I'm crazy. I don't know why they do that."

"Some people just don't understand that there's more to the world than what they can see in their own back yards, I guess," Tabitha noted sympathetically.

Just as Luna was about to reply, Tabitha was shoved from behind. After stumbling forward a short distance, she caught her balance and swung around to find a smirking platinum blond boy at the head of three other students from Slytherin. "Watch where you're going, foreigner. You're in the way."

"I'm in the way? I was just walking along minding my own business!"

"You're in the way just because you're here. You should have stayed wherever you came from. We don't need your sort in Hogwarts."

Tabitha's eyes narrowed dangerously. "And just what is my sort?"

The boy's nose crinkled as he spat out, "Dirty, smelly American trash. Everyone knows that you lot have all the breeding and manners of mongrel dogs. Why they even allowed you into the country is beyond me, much less letting you into a prestigious school like Hogwarts."

Not waiting for a response, he pushed Luna out of his path and stalked past, followed by his group of toadies.

"Luna," Tabitha ground out between clenched teeth, "just who is that nasty boy?"

"He's Draco Malfoy, a fourth year like you. The two big blokes with him are Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, and the girl is Pansy Parkinson. They are blood purists of the worst sort, and aren't well regarded by most of the rest of the school."

"I can see why," Tabitha growled. "That little toad is absolutely infuriating. If he really thinks that just because a person is from America they are automatically inferior to him, he's due for a rude awakening." She grinned evilly. "It may just be time he learned why so many guys back in the States call me a little witch... and why the consonant they use isn't a 'w'."

Tabitha reached up as if to scratch her nose, using the motion to hide her fingers twitching it. Under her breath, she chanted,

"_Stars of lightning, sons of fire._  
><em>Harken to the hearts desire.<em>  
><em>Let your potent power swoop,<em>  
><em>And cause this wizard's wand to droop!<em>"

Feeling the magic settle in as she'd willed, she smiled in satisfaction. "Now, to spring a little surprise. You ought to enjoy this, Luna." She drew a deep breath, and then yelled at the boy's back. "MALFOY!"

Draco, having been anticipating some sort of reaction from her, immediately spun around and pulled his wand out of the pocket in which he'd concealed it. His jaw dropped when instead of the straight shaft he expected, his wand was flopping off the end of the handle like a wet noodle.

Before he could get his thoughts back on track, Tabitha started her offensive. "If you're going to whip out your wand for a girl, it's better if it isn't limp. It hurts her feelings if you can't get it up, you know."

"But..." Draco turned toward Goyle, as if to ask him what was happening. As he watched in sick fascination, the wand began to slowly straighten out until it was back to normal.

"OH! So _that's_ the way it works! I should have known from the slick hair that your wand only gets hard for other guys!"

Draco whirled back toward her with his cheeks a burning red. "You stupid bint, I'll...!" As his wand again pointed toward the two girls, it rapidly began to droop again. This was too much for the other kids in the hall, even his fellow Slytherins. They all began to snicker, and soon broke out in open laughter. Draco stalked away in humiliation, stuffing his wand back into his pocket.

"Don't worry, Malfoy! I'm sure one of your boyfriends will help you polish it until it's nice and stiff again!" called Tabitha to his retreating back. The rest of his group shared a look between them before reluctantly following.

* * *

><p>Draco was seething as he rushed to find his godfather. <em>'That foreign bint had better watch out. Once I've gotten my wand fixed, her days are numbered.'<em>

It didn't take him long before he found Severus Snape, who was on his way to the Great Hall. He pulled the wand out of his pocket and shouted, "Professor! That Stephens girl cursed my wand! Look at it!"

Snape frowned at the flaccid state of the length of wood, but found one of his eyebrows rising at the same rate as the wand when it regained its normal rigidity.

"Now watch!" Draco whirled around and directed his wand toward Pansy. It immediately began to wilt again. "See, Professor? I can't work magic like this!"

The Professor gingerly took the malfunctioning stick from his godson, drawing his own to cast diagnostic charms. This time both his eyebrows raced for his hairline as it regained its normal shape the moment it was no longer being touched by Draco. He tried a few passes with variations of the Revelio charm. "Strange. I can't detect any form of magic cast on this wand. What spell did she incant?"

"I don't know."

Pansy said, "She didn't draw her wand, and I didn't hear her say anything that sounded like a spell. She just muttered something that sounded like it might have been a nursery rhyme of some sort. It was hard to tell, because she spoke really softly."

Snape grunted, and strode off on the path to the Great Hall. "Follow me."

* * *

><p>The Slytherin group entered the Great Hall near the head table, and Snape made a beeline for Professor Flitwick. "Filius, could you please take a look at this wand? It seems to have been jinxed, but I cannot detect how or what the spell may have been."<p>

"Eh? What do you mean? It looks perfectly normal to me."

Snape handed the wand back to Draco and had him direct it at Pansy.

"Well, well, well. That's very interesting. Allow me, if you will." After Draco surrendered the wand, which again resumed its proper shape, Professor Flitwick drew his own wand and began passing it above the affected implement. "Fascinating... Truly fascinating..."

"Well? What have you discovered?" asked Snape impatiently.

"Why, absolutely nothing," replied Flitwick cheerfully. "Whatever has been done to render this wand as it is now is beyond my comprehension. Albus, what do you make of it?" he asked, passing the dangling stick to the headmaster.

Dumbledore examined the wand closely, and with a twinkle in his eye, replied, "Nothing as well. I believe that we've a mystery here that may take many years to solve."

Draco was aghast. "You mean you can't do anything?" he shouted.

Snape cuffed the boy's shoulder. "Show proper respect to the headmaster, Malfoy."

"Now, now," admonished Dumbledore. "There's no need for that. It's perfectly understandable that he's upset. What is known about this jinx?"

Snape answered, "When the boy is holding it and points it at males, it regains its proper form. When he points it at females or into an empty space, it looses its rigidity and becomes as you see it now."

Dumbledore handed the wand back to its owner, and asked, "Please demonstrate, if you would."

Draco, not noticing that the Great Hall had gone silent and all the students were craning to see, aimed his wand at Professor Snape, and it immediately began to stiffen. Then he pointed it at Pansy, and it began to loll once more. He then pointed it at Dumbledore, who watched in rapt curiosity as it rose to the occasion.

Dumbledore's eyes began to twinkle madly as he smiled. "It's been many a year since I was last interested in romance, but it's very flattering to know that I can still get a rise out of a young man's wand, Mr. Malfoy. Thank you."

The silence of the Hall continued for a moment, then was shattered by the entire student body, and many a teacher, laughing themselves silly.

Draco, his face flushed a red so deep that it put the Gryffindor house color to shame, retreated from the Hall to regain his composure and pride, followed once more by his companions.

* * *

><p><em>(Diary continued)<em>

_While I have no intention of mentioning it in my thesis, as you might well imagine, I guess I should talk about my action against Draco Malfoy. While I wanted revenge against his bigotry, I was taught to make the punishment fit the crime. That's why I didn't curse his actual body's ability to perform as it ought. Instead, I cursed him so that whenever he does certain things, it affects whatever wand he is holding._

_The way magic works is something a computer programmer can understand pretty easily. When you cast a spell, you are creating a set of parameters that influence a being or object in certain ways. We immortals do this off the cuff and almost instinctively. Our subconscious mind acts as the compiler for the spell, and every spell we cast is then stored in our subconscious and is written into the target of the spell at the molecular level. The resulting code is unique to every single spell. This is the reason why we no witch or warlock can undo a spell cast by another, and why our magic is permanent until canceled by the caster. We cannot unlock and decompile the code of another witch's spell by attempting to read it, and believe me, we've tried many, many times over the centuries. The most we can ever manage is to cast a spell that cancels out the effects of the original, which means that two spells are at work at the same time until and unless they are stopped by the originators.  
><em>

_Wand wizards work differently. When they craft a spell, they go at it like a mortal programmer. They write down all the elements of the spell, compiling it as written code using runic symbolism and arithmancy as their programming language. Once a spell has been compiled successfully, the written code is assigned a Latin command word and wand movement, and copies of the parchment are stored for safe keeping in a series of special vaults located around the world. After that, any wand wizard who learns the command and wand movements can execute the code and cast the spell, since it calls on the same written code no matter where they are. Conversely, that spell can be undone by a decompiler spell designed for the spell type, like "finite", a decompiler that cancels out simple spells._

_Their method has one advantage over ours. Theirs allows for limited duration spellcasting, which is a type we do not have. That's both a strength and weakness in our magic. If we cast a spell, it's always on until we take the effort to turn it off. We can't just walk away knowing that the spell will end on its own. They can. _

_What I did to Draco had two simple components. The first part set in motion a command that any wand he holds will lose rigidity when he points it at a female human. That then becomes its default state whenever he holds the wand, and it continues that state until he points it at a human male, whereupon it assumes its natural condition. When the wand is no longer pointed at a human male, it reverts to the default state. Since the curse was cast on Draco instead of his wand, the wand resumes its natural condition when he isn't holding it. That's to prevent him from using another person's wand and permanently affecting it._

* * *

><p>Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall. This was, perhaps, the class she was fearing most, since the professor had struck her the night before as being tough and observant. She was fearing this class even more than she had Charms. <em>'Brace up, girl. It's show time.'<em>

Tabitha joined the stream of students headed toward the transfiguration classroom, made up of fourth year students of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. When she arrived at the class, she was awed by the sheer size of the room, which took up two stories and was about the size of a basketball court. The walls and floor looked like they were made of fitted sandstone blocks, although Tabitha didn't know stone very well and couldn't say for sure. The lower halves of the walls were decorated with half columns that led up to gothic arches. At the second story level, the room boasted stained glass windows in geometric patterns that many a church would have been proud to own. The head of the room was semicircular with a two step dais that held two blackboards, a table and chair for the instructor, and a supply chest.

The student seating was the backless bench-desks that were becoming the bane of her existence. _'Okay, it's official. The people who built this place are sadists who want all the kids to have bad backs by the time they graduate.'_

As she found a seat next to one of her dorm mates, the Professor McGonagall walked into the room following the last of the children. She began to speak as she advanced toward the head of the class.

"This quarter's syllabus will concentrate mainly on switching spells, and your final grade will be weighted thirty-five percent on class work, thirty-five percent on completed homework, and thirty percent on the written and practical portions of the examination."

As she said this last, she arrived at her desk. She paused for a moment, then said, "Miss Stephens. Your transcripts indicate that you've covered at least some of the material we will be learning in this year already. The staff has decided that if you like, we can test you ahead to see if anything we normally cover in this year will be of benefit to you. This is up to you. If you decide to sit the classes normally, we'll treat you like the other students. If you decide to take the tests, we will make special arrangements. You may be given the option to sit classes with a higher year, or you may be asked to act as a teacher's assistant in various classes. Please think it over, and let me know what you decide by tomorrow.

"Now, everyone take out 'Intermediate Transfiguration' and read chapters two, three and four. Answer the questions at the end of chapter four and turn them in by the end of the period. We will be conducting practical exercises in our next session."

Tabitha sighed with relief. _'That's one bullet I've managed to duck. With the experience I'll get in other classes I should be able to fool her in the future.'_

Switching spells were a class that used magic to swap one thing for another. Examples given were switching a subject's ears for those of an animal such as a deer or donkey, although more commonly they were used to replace one object with another. The class of magic would have been an art thief's wet dream, but there were several easy ways to defend property against it, and the penalties for using it against muggles were severe. Tabitha was relieved by the choice of spellwork, since her magic excelled at that type of effect.

When the end of the hour came around, McGonagall collected the answer sheets from the students and said, "Because it's the first day of classes, I won't be assigning any homework. Enjoy it, because that won't be happening very often this year. Class dismissed."

* * *

><p><em>'Let's see, next class is... History of Magic. That's the one being taught by a ghost. Still, it could be good. It should be both interesting and informative to hear how the wizards view history. I may be able to learn some important insights about their view of what magic is.'<em>

The History of Magic classroom was another two story design constructed of the same sandy-colored stonework as the Transfiguration room, but where the latter had been bare of decoration, this one featured fine, dark wood paneling on the lower sections of the walls, and some very nice cabinetry. Spaced along the side walls and scattered up and down the wall at the head of the class were numerous portraits, presumably of important historical figures. Most striking to Tabitha, though, was the elaborate decorative wooden beams and scrollwork of the ceiling supports. _'This may be my favorite room so far.'_

The professor was already waiting for the students to file into the room, and began speaking as they settled onto the benches of the desks, which were similar to the ones in Transfiguration.

"Good morning, class. Welcome to fourth year History of Magic. This semester, I'll be teaching you about the origins of the Statutes of Secrecy. Please take out parchment and pen to take notes, and we shall begin."

Thus began one hour of sheer, unadulterated horror. It turned out that Cuthbert Binns had a dry, monotonous voice that seemed designed by nature to put people to sleep, and even more fiendishly, as a ghost _he didn't need to breathe._ The Voice droned on, and on, and on, and it never once stopped to take a breath.

After fifteen minutes of the one hour class, most of the students were out like lights, and the few remaining awake were only accomplishing the feat by clinging to consciousness with raw, bleeding fingertips. Tabitha herself sat hunched over her desk, staring into the distance with glazed eyes. Her last coherent thought was, _'Forty-five minutes to go... Forty-four minutes to go... Oh! The humanity!'_

The next thing she knew, she was being shaken awake by her dorm mate, Mandy Brocklehurst. "Wake up, Stephens. Class is over."

"Oh, dear God... How do you manage to learn anything in this class?" moaned Tabitha as she rubbed her face.

"Ah, that's right. You don't know because you're just starting out this year. No one seriously expects to learn anything from Professor Binns. We have study sessions in the common room during free periods to cover the material we need to know for the finals. I'll get you the schedule."

"Did the professor assign any homework?"

"No. He never does because being a ghost, he can't pick up the papers." Mandy paused. "I've no idea how he rationalizes that. He doesn't know he's dead, and no one's had the heart to tell him. Why he hasn't gotten a clue from not being able to touch things and having to float through the doors, is one of the mysteries of Hogwarts. Best guess so far is that he's so self-absorbed that he doesn't notice doors unless he bumps into them, and since he's a ghost, he can't."

"I suppose that makes sense. Next question. How on earth does anyone stay awake in here?"

"We take it in turns, and the guys whose turn it is take a pepper-up potion before they come in. It was my turn this time, and I had a good book to read. Even then, it's tough. The professor's voice is so boring that it's hard not to fall asleep with it droning in your ears even after the potion."

"You all have endured this for the last three years, and still got passing grades? That alone is worthy of my respect," breathed Tabitha.

"Thank you, I guess. Anyway, that's it for the day. Dinner's at six o'clock, but your time's your own from here on out. Well, except for homework," replied Mandy.

* * *

><p><em>(Diary continued)<em>

_I figured that it would be a good idea to write about classes and my initial impressions of the school because I want to remember what I felt like on my first day here. It's probably going to bore anyone I might allow to read this diary to tears, but when it's all said and done, this is a personal journal and not really meant for others._

_After classes, I met up with Luna again, and we compared notes about our day. Luna's classes had been Arithmancy, Divination, Herbology and Potions. She confided her impressions about the instructors, and they were mostly positive except for the Potions instructor, Professor Snape. His teaching style, according to Luna, is to tell you to make something and then throw you off the deep end to see if you fail. If Ravenclaws didn't tend to be obsessive about reading ahead, it'd be impossible to produce a usable potion on the first day of class. Luna had squeaked by with an "acceptable"._

_Dinner was less pleasant than it had been the night before. An altercation sprang up between Harry and Malfoy, and ended up with Harry insulting Malfoy's mother. That wasn't something to be proud of, but even less was Malfoy's attempt to curse Harry when his back was turned. My curse on Malfoy didn't kick in because Harry's a boy, so there was nothing to stop Malfoy. Nothing, that is, except the new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor. Professor Moody transformed Malfoy into a white ferret and bounced him about the place. The professor was so fast that I hardly had time to realize what was happening before it was over. I heard the Weasley twins later call Malfoy "the amazing bouncing ferret"._

_That was the excitement for the evening. After dinner, Luna and I went for a walk so that she could show me around the grounds, and then it was time for homework. We adjourned to the school library until it closed, and then we went back to the tower and split up to go to our dormitories. Not a very thrilling way to end up the day, is it? Hey, this is a boarding school in the middle of nowhere, not a fantasy adventure!  
><em>


	3. A Very Bad Day To Be A Spider

**Tabitha's Diary**

The rights to Harry Potter belong to J. K. Rowling and her publishers, and the movies are copyrighted by Warner Brothers.  
>The rights to the Bewitched! television series are, as best I know, owned by Ashmont Productions and Screen Gems, Inc.<br>No copyright infringements are intended. This is a non-commercial fan fiction story, and no rights to the characters or settings of either series are claimed by the author.

**Chapter 3**  
>September 8th, A Very Bad Day To Be A Spider<p>

Foreword: In the first two chapters, I hadn't figured out a way to distinguish between Harry Potter magicals and those of Bewitched. As of this chapter, I've found a system. For Bewitched, "Witches" with a capital W refers to the magical society, witches with a lower case "w" to female magicals, and warlocks with a lower case "w" to male magicals. For Harry Potter, Wizards with a capital "W" refers to the magical society, witches with a lower case "w" to female magicals, and wizards with a lower case "w" to male magicals. That alleviates most of the confusion, I hope. I'll still use the term "Wizarding world" for HP society as an alternative, as well as "wand-wavers" as a slang term. Tabitha and the other Witches also use the term "mortals" to refer to both muggles and Wizards, since they view both as having very limited lifespans.

* * *

><p><em>September 8th, 1994.<br>Dear Diary,_

_Well, I feel stupid. When I read about Harry in the British teen witch magazines while I was back in the States, I thought he was supposed to be the equivalent of a movie or music star, since he was raved about right alongside the latest wizarding music bands. You know the kind of stuff I mean. What kind of witch he's supposed to like, his favorite foods, what he does in his spare time._

_Boy, was I wrong. Everything they wrote about him is pure fiction according to Luna, who has been observing him and his friends for the last three years. The thin, starved look that he sports isn't an affectation brought about by long nights partying and dancing and taking whatever passes for recreational pharmaceuticals among Wizards. He's thin because he's literally starved when he's not at school. By his guardians, no less. He comes to school not only for his education, but also because he can eat three square meals a day here._

_Listening to the school gossip has also been an eye-opener. Some of things said about him are what I was expecting, but other things are so full of vitriol that you'd expect he was the second coming of Emperor Nero. You know, spoiled, self-centered, self-serving, and generally rotten. The boy that Luna has learned about is the opposite. He's a typical guy in that he hasn't a clue about how to relate to girls, but she says he's sweet, kind, caring and protective of his friends. Sure, he has his faults, but from what she's told me, they are understandable._

_Most of the people who really put him down are from Slytherin, and considering that one of his major detractors is Draco Malfoy, otherwise known as He-Whose-Wand-Swings-Low and The Amazing Bouncing Ferret, I know who I believe._

_Today this place earned another black mark in my book. I'm not so naive that I don't know that children can be needlessly cruel and tend to pick on people who don't fit their ideas of what's proper. However, there are some things that go beyond the pale, and I discovered one of them when I went looking for my friend._

* * *

><p>Tabitha finished her morning routine and collected her book bag before walking from her room toward the Great Hall for breakfast, keeping an eye open for Luna along the way. Not far from the Hall, she spied her target. Luna was hobbling slowly along the corridor with one hand bracing against the wall with each step.<p>

Tabitha examined what she could see of the girl closely as she increased her pace, attempting to figure out what was causing the distress. Closer inspection revealed an oddity. Luna's socks were mismatched, as were her shoes, which also appeared to be a size or two too small. There were other inconsistencies too. Luna's bag didn't seem to have as many books as Tabitha had seen her carrying the day before.

Upon arriving by Luna's side, Tabitha slipped an arm around the younger girl's waist. "Luna? Why are you wearing two left shoes?"

Luna stiffened in surprise for a moment, but relaxed again after realizing who had touched her. "Oh, good morning, Tabitha. These were the only ones I could find this week, so I've had to wear them for the last few days or go barefoot. The floors are a little too chilly for that, don't you think?"

"The only ones you could find? And you've been wearing them for the last three days? Where are your normal shoes?"

"They must have gone to wherever the missing socks go, so that they wouldn't be lonely. It's rather lovely of them to be so considerate of their companions, so I don't really mind."

"And where are the rest of your textbooks?"

"I don't know, really. Maybe one of our housemates borrowed them? It's okay, they'll turn up on their own before the year ends. They always do."

Tabitha was becoming very angry. "You mean this has happened before?"

"Um... Yes, it happens pretty much every year. I've always thought that it was a peculiarity of this castle that my things seem to like to wander when they are here."

"Wander... I see. Well, I think it's time we convinced them to stay put in the future, don't you?"

Luna's expression took on a worried tone. "You're not planning to do anything rash, are you? I don't want to cause trouble for anyone. Please don't go out of your way to help me. It's not worth it."

"Never, ever say that again, Luna. You're my dear friend, and for me to stay out of it when you're having a problem is about as likely as my great-aunt Clara secretly being Rowena Ravenclaw!"

Tabitha guided Luna into an unused classroom to look at her feet. After easing her down on a bench, she removed the shoes and socks and hissed in sympathy at the sight. Luna's feet were raw and blistered from the time she'd spent trying to act normal in the ill-fitting footwear.

"This is horrible, Luna. We need to get you to Madame Pomfrey for treatment."

"Oh, no! Please. If we do that, there will be questions and things will only get worse!"

"Drat it. Are you sure?" Luna nodded frantically. "Okay, then we'll do this my way."

Tabitha straightened to her full height, and drawing on her magic, chanted,

_"From Tripoli to Timbuktu,  
>I send my plea in search of you.<br>Another moment don't delay,  
>Come to aid me, Doctor Bombay!"<em>

Nothing happened. After waiting for several minutes, Tabitha said, "He must not be in North Africa. How about Southern Europe or the Middle East?

_"From Pakistan to Waterloo,  
>I send my plea in search of you.<br>Another moment don't delay,  
>Come to aid me, Doctor Bombay!"<em>

This time, she was immediately rewarded when a middle-aged looking gentleman with slicked-down hair and a prim mustache appeared. Luna thought it rather odd that the man was wearing nothing but a black wetsuit.

Tabitha cheerfully greeted him. "Hello, doctor. It's been awhile since I last spoke with you. How have you been?"

Dr. Bombay answered her with a frown. "Sorry, dear, but I'd rather get right to business. I've no time for pleasantries. You interrupted me while I was in Switzerland, trying to talk my new nurse into letting me go diving."

Tabitha looked both perplexed and apprehensive. "I'm probably going to regret asking, but how can you go diving in Switzerland? The waters in the lakes there are freezing cold."

Dr. Bombay cocked one eyebrow and replied, "Who said anything about water?"

Tabitha slapped her palm against her forehead. "I was right. I do regret asking, you old lech. Okay, doctor, my friend's roommates have been pranking her cruelly. Her feet are hurt, but she's refusing to go to the school nurse. Can you fix her up?"

Dr. Bombay smiled tightly. "Of course. It'll be done in a jiffy." He pulled a vial out of the air and uncorked it, sniffing lightly at the aroma. "Yes, this should do the trick nicely. Here, young lady, drink this." He handed the vial to Luna.

As Luna began to drink the potion, and the doctor chanted,

_"Ear of corn, Tooth of comb,  
>Drive your healing powers home.<br>And with sugar from the beet,  
>Cure this witch's aching feet!"<em>

Wrinkles smoothed on Luna's brow as the pain she'd been feeling receded rapidly, and the damage to her feet disappeared. "Oh, that feels just lovely! Thank you ever so much, doctor!"

"No trouble at all, dear. Now, if we're quite done, I'd like to get back to my nurse before she cools off. I trust you can handle the rest, Miss Stephens?"

Tabitha smiled evilly. "Oh, yes. You can count on it."

With a flourish of the hand that ended with a half-bow from the waist, the doctor disappeared with a faint chiming noise.

Luna clapped her hands in delight, "Oh, that's so much nicer than the loud cracking noise people make when they apparate. What spell is it?"

"We just say we're 'popping in' or 'popping out'. We don't have formal names for what we do, Luna. We just do it." Tabitha examined the shoes and socks where they lay on the floor critically. After a pause, she began passing her hand through the air a few inches over the articles of clothing. "I'm used to making alterations to my own clothes, so I should be able to do this." After a few more passes, she picked up the items and handed them to Luna. "There, that should do it. Try them on."

To Luna's delight, the socks were now the same color and length, and the shoes had been resized and converted to fit the proper foot. "Thank you! That should make things much better today."

* * *

><p><em>[Diary continued]<em>

_We went on to breakfast after that. I spent much of my meal thinking over various ideas on how to deal with the bullying Luna was experiencing. There were several avenues of approach, but they all began with discovering just who was involved. It was clear that Luna wouldn't tell me, because of her fear of escalating the abuse._

_Problem two was the need to get the point I want to make across in a way that would stick with the bullies without causing the staff to step in on their side. I could not try to enlist the aid of the staff for the same reasons that I couldn't just ask for the names involved - Luna wouldn't allow it, and I do not want to disappoint her. That means that intimidation cannot cross the line, and the same goes for physical chastisement. That leaves me with limited options if I don't want to make Luna upset with me._

_Fortunately, I have a few ideas._

* * *

><p>After breakfast, Tabitha led Luna back to the Ravenclaw Tower, and to the third year girls' dormitory. "Okay. We should enough time before classes for what I have in mind." Tabitha spun on her heel, taking in the room. It was essentially the same as her dormitory, five beds arrayed in a star pattern around a central heating stove. "The first thing we need to know is where your things are hidden. This is something I haven't tried before, so I don't know if it'll work."<p>

She spent a minute in thought, trying to make up an appropriate rhyme. "All right, let's try this one.

_"Eyes that search on gentle winds,  
>Show me things that are my friend's!"<em>

Luna's clothing began to glow with a pale yellow halo, as did her bag and the books and supplies in it. It became obvious which bed was hers as well, since the trunk at its foot also glowed, along with the toiletries on the side table.

Tabitha growled at herself. "That wasn't very well thought out. They only glow if we can see them already, and that's useless unless I want to take the time to poke through every hidey-hole in the castle looking for things that glow when I find them."

She thought some more. "What I need is a spell that will show me the hiding places of your things, not just identify the things as yours. Maybe if I define what I want better? Let's try,

_"Eyes that search on gentle winds,  
>Seek out things that are my friend's,<br>Eagle, sparrow, Canada bacon,  
>Reveal to me that which was taken,<br>Diggory, daggory, rumpkin scar,  
>Mark the places where they are!"<em>

This time, two of the trunks glowed, neither of them being Luna's. With a snap of her fingers, Tabitha opened both trunks simultaneously and clothing and books glowing the pale yellow of Luna's possessions floated out and bobbed through the air to land on her bed. "So, will you tell me whose trunks those are?"

Luna shook her head. "I really, truly thank you for what you are trying to do for me, but I still think that this is a mistake. If they find out that I've gotten my things back, they'll just make up for it by doing even worse."

"Please, Luna, trust that I know what I'm doing. I'm going to convince those girls that bullying you will just bring them grief. If you don't stand up to bullies, they never stop."

"You're not going to give up until I tell you who they are, are you? And now that you know which beds are theirs, you could ask just about anyone in my year and they'd know who sleeps there." Luna mulled it over for a minute, then sighed. "I guess I have no choice. Those trunks belong to Latisha Randle and Felicity Eastchurch. They are the ones that usually try to get a rise out of me. The others mostly ignore me."

"Thank you. I'll be keeping an eye on them, but for now I'll leave them alone." Tabitha cast a wordless summoning spell, and a small folded paper packet came flying to her a few minutes later. She tied a handkerchief across her nose and mouth, and gestured to Luna to stand back. Opening the packet carefully, she gingerly dusted the black powdery contents on the outside of Luna's trunk, taking extra care not to allow any of the substance to fall on her skin or clothing. She followed that action with another spell, carefully imagining the results she wanted. The powder seemed to sink into the wood of the trunk.

"There. If anyone other than you or me tries to open this trunk, they'll get a dose of that, but the trunk will stay locked shut. Then the fun begins."

"What is the powder?"

"Dried, ground-up petals of a Black Peruvian Rose."

"What does it do?"

"Just you wait and see. It'll be fun, I promise. Anyway, we'd better get going or we'll be late to class."

* * *

><p><em>[Diary continued]<em>

_Most of the morning classes were straightforward, much as I described in my earlier entries. When it came time to perform magic in Transfiguration, my wand worked as flawlessly as it had for Professor Flitwick's classes._

_Potions class was another matter. I was right that my studies at Salem helped me, but what I didn't know is that I'd have to fall back on my memories of them almost exclusively. Professor Snape is every bit as horrid a teacher as I'd heard. He writes brief formulas for the potions he wants us to produce in class, and then expects us to follow the written directions while he walks around picking out flaws in technique. We share the class with Hufflepuff, as we do most classes, and he doesn't have a vendetta against us like he does Gryffindor. Still, his comments are condescending and not really meant as assistance or useful critique. If I hadn't already a very good grounding in the subject, I'd be lost. As it is, he seems to regard me as a potions prodigy, a lofty status that means he doesn't pick on me as much as the others. He only sneers at me if I don't produce work he regards as acceptable._

_Defense Against the Dark Arts has been a revelation, and not just to me. From what I've heard around the school, Professor Moody is one of the best teachers in the subject in living memory. Most of the students agree that for all his eccentricities, he's taught them more useful things in the first week of school than most have learned in two of the last three years. Only Professor Lupin, the man who turned out to be a werewolf, is regarded more highly, and as time goes by that may change._

_The Professor told us last session that today we will be having a very exciting lesson. He's gotten special permission from the school and the Ministry to teach us about three spells called the "unforgivables". I haven't read anything about them yet, so it'll be new material for me too._

* * *

><p>As the staff sat for lunch at the head table, Dumbledore addressed two of his subordinates. "Filius, Severus. How goes the analysis of young Mr. Malfoy's wand?"<p>

Flitwick was the first to answer. "So far, nowhere, headmaster. We've borrowed the wand to study when Draco hasn't been in classes. All we've learned is that when not in his possession, the wand reverts to normal and we can detect nothing out of the ordinary about it. We went so far as to pay a visit to Ollivander last weekend, and even he could find no fault. Yet when returned to the boy, it immediately lost rigidity again. I'd venture to say that whatever has affected the wand is beyond my understanding of modern magic. I've made it an extra credit assignment for the seventh year students to research any historical accounts that might explain the phenomenon."

"Severus, have you ruled out that it might have been somehow caused by a potion or some form of alchemy?"

"Entirely, headmaster. I will not indulge in false modesty. I am one of the premier potions masters of my generation, and I say categorically that there is nothing in the modern potions inventory that could create the effects we see at work. Any alchemical formula that might cause the wand to become rubbery in that fashion would leave detectable traces behind. None of them could cause those symptoms and make them turn on or off so quickly, or be keyed to the actions we observe."

Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I agree. This is a most intriguing puzzle, is it not? Have we also ruled out his contention that the Stephens girl could have cursed him?"

Snape graced the comment with his trademark sneer. "Of course. The very idea that a fourteen year old girl could perform a curse that we could not detect, and counter, is so far beyond the pale that it isn't even worth thinking about. My own theories lay more in the direction that the manufacture of the wand was flawed in a way that even Ollivander did not notice when he made it, or when he tested it for us. I suspect that it only became apparent when Draco's magic developed to a level that placed sufficient strain on the wand to trip the flaw. That it happened at the time when he supposed Stephens 'cursed' him is no coincidence. He would have been feeling an emotional stress that may have been the trigger."

"That seems like a reasonable supposition, but it will be difficult to prove," noted the older man. "What about the possibility that the curse is on the boy rather than the wand?"

"I admit it's possible, but we and Madame Pomfrey have examined him thoroughly and find no evidence supporting the idea. As you might well guess, no one is willing to risk their own wand on the chance that it might be transferable. I have sent a note to Draco's father to provide another wand for him to use while we continue our investigations."

"Excellent. I see you have this matter well in hand, and for what it's worth, you have my blessings to proceed. Now, shall we eat? No sense in letting the house elves' efforts go to waste by letting our repast grow cold."

Taking that for the dismissal of the subject that it was, both men tucked in.

* * *

><p>After lunch ended, Tabitha and Luna went their separate ways to class. Tabitha walked sedately through the corridors with a crowd of other students. As she walked, she examined the stonework around her, wondering again at the sheer sense of age about it. '<em>It's only when you see places like this for yourself that you realize how very young the United States is in comparison to other countries. This building has stood longer than the time of the Spanish exploration of the Caribbean islands. Admittedly, there are places as old or older in America, but most of those are ruins of native civilizations that the Spaniards destroyed. Darn, there are times I wish I were older. I'd love to see this place when it was founded, but I can't travel back in time on my own to see anything before the middle of the Cold War.<em>'

That thought brought a slight smile to her face. '_But I suppose that would be more than enough to awe Wizards. They can't travel back in time more than a few days. Score another point for our side._'

Feeling a little smug about her ability to do something the Wizards couldn't, she picked up her pace to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

* * *

><p><em>[Diary continued] <em>

_My musings about time travel made me wonder if anyone who isn't a Witch will ever read this diary. If so, then you may be wondering what I was talking about when I mentioned not being able to travel back farther than the middle of the Cold War on my own. It's simple, really. I can go back as far as I want in time, but if I go back to a date before I was born, it'd be a one-way trip. One of the peculiarities of magic is that it does not exist for an individual before their birth, and that carries over to time travel. Witches who go back before they were born lose their magic. In a nutshell, I can use my magic on any date that it exists, but not any date that I exist, if that makes sense to you._

_So yes, I could go back to the time of the Hogwarts Founders on my own, but I'd be a "squib" when I got there, and I'd need to be rescued by a Witch who was around at the time to get back. Sometimes it's done, but the person going back either notifies an older friend or family member about the trip, or makes darned sure that they know where such a person will be at the time. _

_I've been on archeological expeditions to the past that were supervised by older Witches, and trust me, it's unnerving and unpleasant to be without your magic. I felt nearly helpless while having to rely on my own body to do everything._

_One of the big question marks about our ability to move through time concerns the future. No Witch has ever gone into the future and returned. We think it's because of cross-time theory. If we go forward in time, we probably end up in a time stream that branches off the one we exist in because we did. Then when we try to come back, we end up in an alternate past. Or something. It's all conjecture, and no Witch has ever made the round trip to tell us if it's right._

_In fact, while it's not at all uncommon for a Witch to travel into the past and return to the present, or to be sent from the past to return to the present, no Witch has ever been successfully brought from the past to the present by another Witch if they hadn't travel there in the first place. In other words, bringing a past self forward seems to be impossible. Ditto for a Witch who died in the past._

_Or at least, forward time travel has never been done that I know of. We can and have on many occasions brought mortals forward to our present and then returned them to their own time, but never a Witch. I think it's a side-effect of having magic that makes it not work. Sound confusing? I know it confuses me. _

* * *

><p>The students seating themselves at their desks in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom could easily see the new addition to the room. On a table at the head of the class were three glass boxes, each containing a large Tarantula. After they'd all settled down, the professor, who'd been waiting on the small landing in front of his office door began carefully hobbling down the short flight of steps to the classroom floor.<p>

"Good afternoon. Today, as promised, we'll be covering the three Unforgivables. As we discuss the spells, I will be demonstrating them on these spiders. I have been given special permission to do so for all classes on this day only.

"Mr. Corner. Name one spell considered unforgivable, and its effects."

Michael Corner, a Ravenclaw like Tabitha, stood up and recited, "The Imperius Curse is one of the Unforgivable Curses. The spell causes the victim to be completely under the command of the caster, who can make the victim do anything the caster wishes. A victim of this spell is said to have been Imperiused."

"Word for word what the textbook says. Congratulations for having good memory, if nothing else." Addressing the rest of the class, the professor said, "Yes, Imperius is the first of the three spells regarded as unforgivable, and if caught, it guarantees the wizard or witch who casts it a lifetime in Azkaban Prison. The incantation is 'imperio'. Through it, the victim can be made to do things that he or she would be opposed to doing of their own will. The Unforgivables were declared to be dark and forbidden in 1717. However, during the height of the war against You-Know-Who they were approved for use by aurors. That permission was revoked when the war ended.

"Contrary to popular belief, the spells weren't forbidden because they twist the soul of the caster or have any other lasting effect. They were forbidden because they are all too easy to cast if you have the right mind set and strong enough magic. Ministry declared them 'dark', though what makes them any darker than bashing someone's head open with a Bludgeoning Curse escapes me."

Drawing his wand, the instructor motioned at one of the spiders, calling out "Imperio!" in a firm voice. After a short wait, the spider began to dance. The professor ended the spell. "The Imperious Curse robs its victims of any sense that they are doing something wrong or unnatural, so its victims can be made to cast the curse on others, making it self-perpetuating. The victims can even be made to perform feats of superhuman strength or endurance, since they have no awareness that what they are doing will harm their bodies.

"Miss Abbott. Name another of the Unforgivables," requested Professor Moody, speaking to a blonde girl from Hufflepuff.

"Um... The Cruciatus Curse? That's the one that causes unbearable pain, right?" Hannah's answer was half question, as she looked at the girl she was partnered with at their table. The second girl, a pert redhead, nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Yes, Miss Abbott. It's Cruciatus. In future, I'll expect you to know your answer well enough to not need Miss Bones' say-so. The Cruciatus is all about pain. You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse. It was very popular back in the day for dueling and defense.

"Cruciatus uses the incantation 'crucio', and stimulates the pain receptors of every nerve in the victim's body. It's maybe the darkest of the three Unforgivables, because to cast the wizard must not just want to hurt the victim, he must truly want him to suffer. If he doesn't, the pain will be far less than could be, and for a shorter time."

He directed his wand at the second spider, and intoned, "crucio". The spider was struck by the spell and quivered in mute agony, its legs curling under its body. After a moment, he ended the spell.

"Mr. Macmillan, you're next. What is the last of the Unforgivables?"

Ernie Macmillan, another Hufflepuff, stood and answered, "That would be the Killing Curse, sir. It instantly kills any living thing it hits, and cannot be blocked by any spell."

"Well said, Mr. Macmillan. Yes, Avada Kedavra is unblockable except by physical objects. It's possible to dodge, but not easy. Avada Kedavra needs powerful bit of magic behind it. You lot could all get your wands out and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed."

His wand moved to the last spider, and as he breathed "Avada kedavra", a near-blinding streak of electric green light flashed from to tip to strike the unfortunate arachnid. It instantly curled up in death.

"And that's all it takes to end life. One wand motion, and two words. Remember that, and always be aware of the people around you that might just try it on you some day. Protecting your life is no one's responsibility but yours, and to do that, you need to keep your wits about you. CONSTANT VIGILANCE! That's the key, kiddies. NEVER forget it!"

* * *

><p><em>[Diary continued]<em>

_That was a very enlightening class. One thing I've been learning in the classes I've taken here is that Wizards are endlessly inventive when it comes to harming each other. They have more jinxes and curses than we ever dreamed of. When we want someone dead, we make them dead and have done with it. Wizards have dozens of ways to do the job, be it blunt force, cutting, coagulating blood, suffocating, or what have you. If you can name it, and it can be used to end another person's life or cause excruciating pain, there's probably a Wizarding spell to make it happen._

_I found myself agreeing with Professor Moody. The classification of those three spells as "unforgivable" doesn't make any sense, when so many other spells that are perfectly legal to use do much the same thing, but more messily. Even their supposed system for naming spells "light" or "dark" leaves me scratching my head. _

_My people think very little of using magic to cause mortals to act or think as we wish, although we use that ability sparingly. My own grandmother Endora is noted for her expertise at altering people's minds. Among Wizards, that would be grounds for locking her in prison for the rest of her life... assuming that she didn't live so long the place crumbled to dust around her, or that any prison could restrain her in the first place. That last part is very doubtful. Yet there is a ministry department called "obliviators" that specializes in altering memories of mortals when they witness magic being used, and no one thinks twice about the morality of it._

_Can you spell "hypocrisy", children? I knew you could._

* * *

><p>As the students settled down to eat dinner that evening, Tabitha asked Luna, "Which two are Latisha Randle and Felicity Eastchurch?"<p>

"That's them, sitting three places down from Lisa Turpin."

"Fine. Let's keep an eye on them. If they've been good little girls, then we'll be wasting our time. But if they haven't, you ought to get a kick out of what should be happening any minute now."

Sure enough, a boy that the two girls had been chatting with across the table suddenly started, and then leaned forward, staring intently at the girls' faces. He began chuckling, which turned to full out, pounding on the table laughter within seconds. This prompted the other students nearby to look over, and soon they were laughing as well. This caused the two girls to look at each other in confusion, at which they both jumped up from the bench shrieking and pointing at each other. Soon after, the commotion brought Professor Flitwick and Nurse Pomfrey trotting to see what the trouble was as the rest of the students in the Great Hall craned to try and see what was so funny.

"Here, here! What's all this, then?"

"Professor! Something's happened to Felicity and Latisha! Look at their faces!" shouted another of the girls, as the pair wailed about how ugly they were now and how they'd never live it down.

The professor used his wand to set off a firecracker blast. Once he had the attention of the two girls, he motioned them to sit. "Settle down, and let me see what's going on." As soon as the two had done so, he examined them. Their faces had broken out in dozens of lurid green pimples, the color a near-neon tint that would have been very hard to find in nature. What made them even more peculiar was the shape of the acne. Instead of being round, the spots were each an almost perfect square. Flitwick was taken aback by the sight, and Pomfrey clucked to herself as she cast diagnostic charms.

"This is obviously an allergic reaction to something, but I can't say I've ever seen the like. Merlin only knows what could have caused it. All right, you two, it's up to the infirmary with you. I'll have the rest of your dinner sent up as soon as I've checked it to be certain that there's no foreign substances in it."

The girls didn't need a second telling, and rushed from the room with their hands over their faces to hide as much of the spotting as possible.

Pomfrey frowned as she watched them rush away. "First Mr. Malfoy, now them. What will the rest of the year hold if this is how the first month is going?"

* * *

><p>Once the furor had died down, Luna whispered to Tabitha, "All right, I'll agree that it was amusing. What did you do to them?"<p>

Tabitha discretely snapped her fingers below the edge of the table, casting a privacy charm.

"As I said before, the powder I used in that security charm I used on your trunk is made from petals of a Black Peruvian Rose. It has no effects on mortals, the people you call muggles. When a magical person touches the flower or extracts from it, it causes the Square Green Spots Disease."

Luna gave Tabitha a sideways glance, and then began to snicker.

"Don't laugh, Luna. My people have never claimed to be good at naming things. Anyway, aside from causing that embarrassing acne, the disease is essentially harmless."

"That's interesting. While my family is mostly interested in unusual magic animals, we sometimes write about magical plants too. What's the story behind that rose?"

"It was developed by mortals in the Andes mountains, back in the days when the Inca ruled the western part of South America. We found out about the rose the hard way when Inca priests used it against us. They wanted to drive witches out of their empire. While the flower itself just causes that silly illness, they came up with a potion that used it and who knows what else to create a magic repellent. The exact formula for the potion was a closely guarded secret, and it was lost when the Spanish wiped out the empire. The priests painted it on wardstones that were placed in key locations all over Peru. Luckily for us, they didn't have time to create wardstones in any of the other countries covered by their empire before the Spanish arrived, because it was spectacularly effective. To this very day, there are no Witches or Wizards in Peru. It's impossible for magicals to even pass through the place, and that includes us when we're popping. The stones still work flawlessly, and we have to detour around the whole country."

"How did they know it would effect magical people?"

"That's a mystery we've never solved, and we've gone back in time trying to learn the answer. The theory is that they stumbled on the formula completely by accident when trying to make something else, and noticed that none of us could get close to it. Since we can't get anywhere near the people we think invented the stuff, we can't see what they did."

"...Wait. You've gone back in time to the era of the Inca empire?"

"Not me personally. It's too dangerous."

"How could any of you? Time turners only work for a few days at best."

"We don't use silly devices like your time turners. We-"

"-Just Do It, I know. You're starting to sound like a broken record."

Tabitha blushed. "Okay, okay. I'll try to remember that you've got the idea. Anyway, our magic doesn't have any problem with taking us back in time as far as we want to go. The problem is that if we jump back to a date before we were born, we have to have partners we trust with us. That's because we lose our magic if we do, and don't get it back until we travel to a time after our birth. Since I'm not very old, for me going back to most significant historical dates would be a one-way trip. I either have to do my archeology the hard way, or go on a field trip with an older Witch.

"That's fascinating. Does the same thing apply to us?"

"I'm pretty sure it does. It's a property of magic, not people.

"Anyway, back to the disease. The powder I used causes a variant that will run its course in a few months because it's less potent than the flowers. If I'd used a flower instead of the powder, the disease wouldn't go away until the cure was brewed up. I know how to make the potion that will cure it if I need to, but I'd have to get the ingredients first, and I don't think the school potions supply includes fresh dolphin's milk. I'm expecting that the nurse will keep those girls in the infirmary for a few days, so you'll have peace at least that long. After they get out, I imagine that they'll still be to occupied with trying to cover up the spots to bother you. So for now, I suggest you just enjoy your dinner. I know I will."

* * *

><p>Tabitha still didn't know how she really felt about Harry. It didn't help that she rarely had a legitimate reason to see him. Her House was only paired up with his for one class. <em>'Whose brilliant idea was it to constantly put Gryffindor and Slytherin into the same classes anyway? Their animosity is legendary, and forcing them together isn't helping at all.'<em>

She wished that she had more of an excuse to hang out with the Gryffs, since she thought that she might get along with Hermione reasonably well. Other than Luna, she wasn't warming up very much to the rest of her House. It wasn't that they were treating her badly. It was more that they were standoffish, being more focused on their studies and existing friendships. She supposed that it was a consequence of coming into their school lives midstream; they'd already formed their cliques, and knew that she'd only be there for one year.

_'I guess if I want to get to know him, I'm going to have to be more aggressive about it. If I don't have many chances to see him, I'll have to make some.'_

The Hermione angle looked like the best option. If the last week had shown Tabitha anything about the girl, it was that she had precious little in the way of female companionship at the school. Since Tabitha already thought they might have some legitimate common ground and thought she could talk Luna into going along with it, hanging out with Hermione whenever possible would be a good way to break into their group, and it had two useful side benefits: getting Luna away from bullies in Ravenclaw, and adding another friend to Luna's very short roster. The only question was the timing. Where and when could she catch Hermione outside of classes?

_'The library. Hermione loves to read. I never see her without at least a book or two in hand. If we start hanging out in the library more often, it's inevitable that we'll see her there. I'll talk to Luna about becoming friends with her, and if she agrees we can set Operation: Hermione into action.'_

* * *

><p><strong>Footnotes:<strong>

**1. The Peruvian Wardstones.** While I made up the idea of wardstones as the reason the effect persists, the ideas that a) Peru is inaccessible to witches, b) there are black Peruvian roses, and c) the existence of the Square Green Spots Disease are all Bewitched canon from episode #42, "Take Two Aspirin and Half a Pint of Porpoise Milk". Unfortunately for me, very little detail is given, except for the formula for the cure to the disease, since the story revolved around Darrin's search for the ingredients.

Here are some questions I got in a review and the answers as to how the idea works in this story:

Q: _How hard would it be for a witch to enslave the mind of a human and command him/her destroy the wards? Or if that doesn't work for some reason or another, there are lots of other ways to destroy things from a distance without the direct use of magic._

A: I defined the effect as a "magic repellent", so it's not much of a stretch that anything or anyone affected by magic would also be unable to approach the stones. Earlier, I defined how Witch magic worked as writing a code into the person or thing affected at the molecular level, so altering a mortal's mind leaves a permanent trace of the caster's magic in that person's body, until the caster breaks the spell, removing the magic. Thus, a person who'd been hexed would also be unable to enter Peru.

Q: _About the no witches and wizards in Peru: does this mean that no wizard or witch was ever born inside the country after the wards were activated?_

A: Yes. No person with even a trace of magic could stay in the country, so everyone born since then is 100% non-magical. Even people with latent magic potential that could give birth to magical children were repelled.

Q: _How high do the wardstones effect goes? Outside the atmosphere? Do they form a ceiling as well? And how low below ground?_

A: It's magic. The intent of the priests was that no magic could be in or cross the borders of their country. Since the spell works, no magic can be in or cross the borders of their country except for the magic of the wards. Height or depth have nothing to do with it; magic and magical beings cannot cross the line, period.

**2. The lifespan of Witches.** I found out well after writing the first chapter that my guess about how Witches age was a lot closer to canon than I imagined. During my research, I found out that according to various throw-away lines spoken in episodes of Bewitched, it's been estimated that it takes 100 years for a Witch to grow up to adulthood. So my guess about how Witches age really is very close to canon. The only point of speculation that's not is that they physically age more slowly than mortals, my explanation of why Tabitha is still only 14 years old physically even though she's 29 chronologically.

It's also well established that Endora is over 3,000 years old, and that even older witches and warlocks are still very much alive and kicking. So functional immortality is definitely canon to Bewitched.

Every time I find new information about Bewitched, I'm astonished at the level of free thinking and detail that the creators of the series were able to put into the show, and that they got it all past the censors of the time. After all, we're talking about a show that was based on the idea that witchcraft was real, back in the days when actresses weren't allowed to display their bellybuttons on screen!

(Literally true. Google images of "I Dream of Jeannie" and check out the belly-dancer costumes worn by Barbara Eden.)

**3. Is Adam mortal?** In another of the reviews from this chapter, I was asked about my assertion that Adam, Tabitha's younger brother, is mortal.

In Bewitched episode #242, "Adam, Warlock or Washout", Adam was certified as a warlock by representatives of the Witches Council. However, the episode left many people confused. It looked like Maurice, their warlock grandfather, used his powers to fake Adam being magical. Maurice had a motive; if Adam had turned out to be mortal, the examiners would have taken Adam away from the Stephens. At first, Maurice caused Adam to fly around the room, which was too much - the representatives were about to take Adam away anyway because he was a "prodigy". Maurice admitted he'd been the one levitating the boy. A little later, Adam is shown levitating a ball, but it may have been a more subtle intervention by Maurice again.

In the later spin-off series "Tabitha", Adam was portrayed as mortal. If you put the information together, it's easy to understand why I'm working on the assumption that Maurice really did fake Adam's power in order to save him from being taken from the family.

**4. There's an in-joke in this chapter.** Clell, one of the members of the CaerAzkaban Yahoo Group, began writing a Bewitched/HP crossover before I started mine. In fact, I originally began writing this as an attempt to spark his interest in continuing his own. His version was inspired by a group discussion about crossing the two series. He's only completed a few scenes, and it's on the back burner due to many other stories he needs to complete before he can pay attention to it again.

In his story, Witches are known to the Wizarding World as "the Elder Sect". One of the first story hooks he came up with was that Rowena Ravenclaw was actually Samantha Stephen's aunt Clara, who took the name as an alias while living in Wizard society. After the death of her husband, Godric Gryffindor, Clara left the Wizards behind and returned to her family. As time passed, her children with Godric had children of their own, as is the way of things. Centuries went by, and eventually the last of the Gryffindor / Ravenclaw line was born - Harry James Potter. When his parents were murdered, Clara felt it and came to investigate. She found the toddler and took him to be raised by her niece.

Now that you have that info, you should be able to recognize the joke even if you aren't a member of the Yahoo Group. This should also explain why a few reviews for this story mention the "Elder Sect" - people from the Group sometimes get my story mixed up with Clell's.


	4. A Jester in the Castle

Foreword: **This isn't a complete chapter.** It's a scene I've been working on, and it's kind of fragmented. I'm posting what I have so far to see if anyone here will give me any feedback on whether I'm handling the characters right.

Something to keep in mind; This scene is an attempt to get a feel for writing the characters of Uncle Arthur, and to a lesser extent, the Weasley twins. It's important to remember that Arthur, the character, is not Paul Lynde, the actor who played him. So don't expect sexual innuendo or gay jokes. Arthur never used any.

* * *

><p><em>I was terribly melodramatic, wasn't I? My "operation" to get to know Hermione Granger better was to sit at the same table in the castle library occasionally. Nothing more, really. We traded advice about lessons, but I found out that she's not an easy person to get along with outside of lessons. She's much too focused on her homework for that, and doesn't seem to truly understand why classes and homework wouldn't be the driving force of everyone elses' day as well. In the end, my plan fizzled because of that. I found that she's pretty much the same with her friends, always pushing them to complete assignments and study more. At least, that's how it appeared to me from my own observations and the school grapevine.<em>

_I was also very disappointed when I was able to watch Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. On the surface, both were rather lazy and unmotivated, which accounts for Hermione's badgering of them. I'm rapidly coming to the conclusion that Harry's main objective in school is to fit in and blend into the background. No one I've ever talked to has ever heard if he has any long term goals. They seem to assume that life will just work out for "the Boy Who Lived" and do not spend any time thinking about "how"._

_For me, that brings up a real mystery. He's not at all the kind of guy I've ever admired or even thought of going on so much as one date with, yet I still feel this sense of attraction. Why? I don't believe in love at first sight, and after musing on it, I don't think that love has anything to do with what I'm feeling._

_Maybe I should talk to mother about it?_

_No, not yet. I should be better at figuring out this kind of thing for myself, so I'll hold off on calling her._

* * *

><p><em>Dear diary,<em>

_Personal relationships can be boiled down to three truths. The first truth: you choose your friends. The second truth: your enemies choose you. The third truth: there is no choice about who your family members are._

_Grand-uncle Arthur is one of those people that have to be seen to be believed, but after you've seen him, you realize that ignorance is bliss. As small children, my younger brother and I adored him because his sense of humor was on a level we could appreciate. As we got older and our tastes in jokes got more sophisticated, our fondness for the man remained, but our fondness for his jokes did not. His idea of "funny" was grade-school level, and although we grew up, he never did. His penchant for bad puns and juvenile practical jokes earned him the title of "The Clown Prince of the Cosmos" from Grandmother Endora. As you might expect, he was tickled pink. _

_Knowing that my family members come and go as it pleases them regardless of whether it's permitted or appropriate, it was probably inevitable that Uncle Arthur would come to see what his grand-niece was up to when he was in the area. I was so shocked at the suddenness of his appearance that it caused a small lapse in my acting._

_Could I have reined him in? In a word, no. It's important to remember that while I'm considered an adult in mortal society, I'm still a young child by Witch standards. I lack the power and control to even dream of opposing a Warlock of Arthur's age and experience. He's easily able to spank me both figuratively and literally if I tried. So I really was helpless to stop him when he came to call._

* * *

><p>As students streamed into the great hall for breakfast, and accompanied as usual by Luna, Tabitha approached her normal place on the bench at the Ravenclaw table. Curiously, instead of the usual place setting, there was a large covered platter on the table before her.<p>

"Luna? Did you order something special for me?"

"I don't remember ordering anything for you, but with all the wrackspurts in the tower, I may have forgotten about it."

"I'll take that as a 'no'. So you didn't, and I know I didn't. I suppose there's only one way to find out what this is about." As all of the students nearby watched in curiosity, Tabitha gingerly reached out to lift the lid off the platter. "This might be one of the Weasley twins' pranks, so be ready to jump away."

As she slowly lifted the lid away, there were gasps of shocked surprise from all around. A human head was revealed, sitting on a bed of lettuce. There were more gasps when it suddenly smiled and winked at her.

Tabitha was less surprised. "Oh. Hello, Uncle Arthur."

Luna timidly asked, "Is he a ghost, Tabitha? He looks awfully solid for one."

"No, this is Arthur, my grand-uncle on my mother's side. He's as big a practical joker as the twins, except he only has half their maturity."

The head took on an expression of mock hurt. "Tabitha! My favorite grandniece! You wound me!" Suddenly, a headless body dressed in a conservative white shirt, natty tie, and plaid suit appeared, stretched out along the length of the table next to the platter. A handkerchief tastefully concealed the top of the neck. "Look! I'm beside myself with the pain!"

Luna murmured, "Oh my. He's qualified to join the headless hunt and he isn't even dead yet."

Tabitha threw him a flat stare. "Unless Cousin Serena settled down and got busy when I wasn't looking, I'm your only grandniece. Did you have to pull the old 'head on the platter' gag on me? You've been doing that one since before I was born."

"What can I say? The classics must have their due! It just begs to be dusted off occasionally." Both head and body disappeared in a flash, to reappear firmly attached in the normal manner a moment later, standing beside the girls. This display of what seemed to be wandless magic caused the rest of the room to fall into wide-eyed silence.

"And just what is it that brings you to my boarding school today, uncle? Surely you have better things you could be doing."

"Better than visiting my darling grandniece? Pish-posh. But if you must know, I'm here in Scotland on an errand."

"Are you going to enlighten me?"

"Of course! Do you want the long version or the short version? Although I have to warn you, the long version is in Aramaic."

Slapping her hand to her forehead, Tabitha suppressed a groan. "I'll tell you what. Unless it directly involves me, you can keep it to yourself."

"Oh, poo. You're no fun today, Tabitha!"

With a wave of her wand, Tabitha banished the platter and lid and summoned a regular place setting for herself. This resulted in even wider eyes among her housemates. Seating herself, Tabitha turned to her neighbors and asked, "Could someone pass me the milk?"

Arthur clapped his hands. Tabitha found herself with a cow standing uncomfortably near to her, its head peering over her shoulder. After a moment of hesitation, the cow began to graze on a serving dish that was piled high with pancakes. Arthur beamed at Tabitha. "There you go, dear! Help yourself!"

Tabitha hid her face in her hands.

Arthur giggled. "Sorry, I just can't help milking a joke!"

* * *

><p>While all of this had been going on, there had been a great deal of consternation at the head table. None of the instructors had a clue as to how the mystery man had managed to apparate inside Hogwarts, or how he seemed to effortlessly perform magic without a wand in sight.<p>

"There has to be a trick," muttered Professor Snape. "This can't be happening the way it appears to be."

His colleagues nodded in agreement.

"Well, I really should go to greet our unannounced guest and find out what his intentions are," proclaimed the headmaster. With that, he left the dais and approached the strange man. It was at that moment that the man clapped his hands. After a time of being taken aback by the seeming apparition of a barnyard animal into his school, he addressed him. "Pardon me, sir. May I have a word?"

Arthur turned to him with glee. "Of course! 'Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.' There, that should hold you for the rest of the week!"

Nonplussed, Dumbledore gaped like a fish. "Er… I meant to ask if I might speak with you for a moment."

* * *

><p>"So, how would you rate this new prankster, brother of mine?" George asked of his inseparable companion.<p>

"I can only give him three wands out of five, my handsome identical twin. While his execution is flawless, the pranks themselves are quite basic and lacking in that certain _je ne sais quoi_," Fred answered.

"When did we learn to speak French, dear brother?"

"Oh, is that was that was?"

"I guess that answers my question."

Across the room Uncle Arthur smirked as he snapped his fingers, while allowing himself to be lead away from the Ravenclaw table toward the head dais.

"Well, Gred, shall we attend to this undoubtedly sumptuous repast?"

"Indeed we shall, Forge. After all, breakfast is the most important meal of the day."

Neither of the boys paid any heed to the fact that they had each selected a grapefruit half, despite it being a fruit that neither had ever eaten before and which was not normally on the Hogwarts menu. Fred was the first to dig into his with the small spoon that had come with it. A long stream of juice promptly shot from George's grapefruit, hitting him squarely on the center of his forehead.

"WHAT THE HELL?" cried out George, as he searched for a napkin.

Fred looked at the spoon in his hand, and then at the large citrus fruit half in front of him. He tentatively poked the spoon into the top if it again. Another, lesser stream of juice erupted from George's meal, this time hitting his chin.

George didn't need a compass to see the way the wind was blowing. Feeling a little vengeful, he jammed his spoon deeply into his own grapefruit. He was rewarded when a heavy stream of juice shot from Fred's fruit, instantly soaking his hair with the tart substance.

The pair looked at each other for a long moment, and eventually George stated, "Okay. I have to give him a four out of five this time."

They began stabbing their fruit violently in an impromptu squirtgun war, accompanied by a chorus of guffaws from their table mates. Across the room, Arthur had to lean against the wall to support himself as he brayed in laughter, while the rest of the students in the room began tittering and the instructors wondered just when the facility had become an asylum, and why no one had informed them.

* * *

><p>After Dumbledore managed to calm Arthur down enough to conduct him the rest of the way to the head table, he said, "I am Headmaster Albus Dumbledore of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and these gentlemen and ladies are the staff of the school. I fear that we have not yet had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, sir. If you would be so kind, please introduce yourself and explain what brings you to our castle in such an unusual manner."<p>

"Aw, how could I not cooperate with such a polite request? My name is Arthur. I'm afraid that I cannot share my family name; it's been so long that anyone has used it, I've quite forgotten it, or even if we ever had one. As to what brings me to here..." Arthur began a very long, detailed and informative explanation of his errand in Scotland. It did little good for the bewildered staff, however, since, as promised, it was entirely in Ancient Aramaic.

While he was in mid-speech, Tabitha excused herself to Luna, and quickly walked to the door to the nearest corridor. Once there, she stopped near a portrait of a living room with a wing-backed chair in front of a cheery fireplace. The person whose frame it was had apparently gone somewhere else. She then spoke to the air. "Uncle Arthur! Please! You're going to ruin my research project!"

The picture immediately had a new figure, as Arthur blinked in, reclining across the chair with one leg over its arm. "Tabitha, Tabitha, Tabitha. You should know better than to believe that these people are going to remember a thing when I decide to leave, so why spoil my fun? Still, these wizards are a dull bunch, aren't they? Maybe I should just move along. I really do have an errand to run. I'll be seeing you, dear."

With that, he was gone. Tabitha strolled back to the great hall to finally eat her breakfast in peace. Which was an idea she had to abandon since all of the people and furnishings in the hall were upside down on the ceiling, and room's inhabitants were asking each other how they got up there and when it had happened.


End file.
